Chapter Eleven
‘Ah, Miss
Austen,’ said Lady Milton, ‘Alice said you wouldn’t be long … do take a seat.
We’ve been cooking up a plan, which I hope will meet with your approval. There
is no time to waste, and I shall not beat around the bush, as they say. I have
always been a direct person, and therefore forthright in my opinions. What I am
about to say I hope will not hurt your feelings, but it has to be said.’
Jane sat down
wondering if she was in trouble by the tone of Flora Milton’s voice, and racked
her brain for some thought of any misdemeanour she might have made. Her mouth
felt dry, and she bit her lower lip anxiously. Perhaps it had been remarked
upon that she’d not been doing a very good job of chaperoning the girls, and
instantly thought she should have discouraged Julius Weatherfield from coming
to see Mae so often.
‘Don’t worry,
Jane, everything is fine, truly,’ added Alice reassuringly, after noting the
distress in Jane’s face.
‘Stand up
please, Miss Austen,’ said Lady Milton firmly, ‘I want to look at you.’
Jane was
apprehensive, but did as she was told, and ran her hands over the cheap cotton
frock she was wearing in an attempt to look as smart as possible. Lady Milton
was always so perfectly turned out and it was impossible to feel anything but
shabby under her scrutiny.
‘What do you
think, Alice?’ said Lady Milton. ‘I have to say I feel sure she is a similar
build. The same height and long, slim legs … she could make an excellent
dancer.’
Jane was not
prepared to stand meekly any longer. ‘May I ask what all this is about,’ she
said. ‘I’m sorry, but I feel as if I’m on exhibit in the cattle market. I’ve
told everybody here I don’t dance, and I promise you, I do not need lessons.’
Lady Milton
laughed. ‘Dear Miss Austen, this has nothing to do with your dancing abilities,
I assure you. The point is I’ve been attempting for some time to bring Alice
into the 1920s without much success, but having finally persuaded her to have a
new dress to wear in the evenings, she has brought to my attention that you are
very short of evening attire yourself.’
‘Oh,’ said
Jane both shocked and surprised, ‘but I am quite happy with my black dress, I
assure you.’
‘You might
be, Miss Austen, but I have had quite enough of its drab appearance at every
mealtime and soirée.’
‘Lady Milton
has a couple of dresses she no longer has any use for,’ said Alice. ‘We think
you are about the same size.’
‘And I’m sure
they would fit.’
‘No, I
couldn’t possibly put you to so much trouble,’ said Jane, ‘I do not think I
have the figure or …’
For once she
couldn’t think what to say. The idea of wearing anything so modern or short as
the dresses Lady Milton wore was enough to make her feel faint.
‘The dresses
are beautifully tailored,’ said Alice. ‘They’ve been in storage, only worn once
or twice a couple of years ago, and I know will be perfect for you. Please say
you will have a look at them.’
‘It would be
very churlish if I didn’t,’ said Jane remembering her manners and knowing that
she could trust Alice’s judgement in such matters.
‘Good, that’s
the first thing,’ said Lady Milton. ‘And now we’ll broach the second.’
‘I’m having
my hair cut today,’ Alice interjected, ‘and Lady Milton wondered if you’d like
to have yours done too. I’d feel so much better if someone shared the
experience with me. I’m feeling very anxious about it as I haven’t had a lock
cut off since I was a little girl, except the ends, of course.’
‘Alice, why
are you having your beautiful hair cut off?’ Jane demanded, speaking her
thoughts out loud. ‘You should stay true to yourself, and be who you want to be
… not some slave to fashion!’
‘Please be
assured I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Since the war ended I’ve
been living in a time warp, and I’ve decided I shall do so no longer. Please
don’t feel you have to do anything,
but you’ve been such a dear friend to me since you arrived, I thought you might
like a haircut too.’
Jane gazed at
Alice and thought she saw a brave new spirit emerging from the girl who’d
seemed content to hide in the background. She could identify with that so
easily. And what was it that she was so afraid of, she asked herself? It was
only a haircut, and after all, even if it were disastrous it would grow again.
Alice’s eyes beseeched her, and she found she couldn’t say no. And she had to
admit that a small part of her was quite excited at the idea of emerging as
someone new and unrecognisable.
‘I’ll do it,’
she said in the next breath before she could stop herself, ‘Alice, let’s cut
our hair together.’
‘There’ll be
no need for doing it oneself,’ Lady Milton exclaimed. ‘Marcel will be here in
half an hour, which will give you just time to have a bite to eat. Alice, bring
Miss Austen up to my boudoir after breakfast, and we shall see what can be
done.’
Eddie Wallis
was worried about his brother. Frankie had been at the rectory for nearly a
month now, and after the initial excitement of his arrival, seeing him again,
spending long hours sharing his wonderful company, talking together and hearing
all the stories about his glamorous lifestyle, he’d become increasingly
concerned. Eddie admitted to himself that initially he’d felt rather envious of
his brother’s good fortune, and couldn’t help comparing where he found himself
in life in relation to Frankie’s incredible journey. But, as time was passing
he knew something was troubling Frankie, and he began to think that not all was
rosy in his brother’s world. There were times when he was silent and dour,
withdrawing from any conversation, preferring to stay in his room, quite unrecognisable
from the Frankie he’d once known who always seemed so happy and carefree.
Privately, he wondered if Frankie had ever really recovered from his love for
Alice, but getting him to talk about it was like attempting to open a tin can
with a spoon. He might make a few dents, but could not break through the
impervious outer layer.
On this
particular morning Frankie was in a horrible mood. He’d already snapped at
Eddie because he couldn’t find his gold cufflinks, and his brother had heard
him being short with the girl who came in to do the cleaning and make the
breakfast. Dora was sobbing in the kitchen when Eddie walked in to see what was
delaying the meal, and he had to work very hard to get her to stop.
‘They don’t
know ’im like I do, those girls in the village,’ she said, banging the frying
pan down on the stove. ‘Oh, they think he’s so gorgeous, but I’ve a mind to put
’em straight! I’ve only got one pair of ’ands, and I can’t go any quicker! If I
told ’em what he was really like …’
‘Come now,
Dora, you know Frankie isn’t a morning person. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.’
‘Maybe not,
but he needn’t think he can go round acting like the Lord Almighty because he’s
treated like royalty elsewhere. I always heard such good things about Frankie
from my Mum, but I think he’s changed. Got a big ’ead now, my sister thinks,
and I don’t like to agree, but I think she’s right!’
Eddie marched
back into the breakfast room to face his glum brother who was hiding behind a
newspaper. ‘Frankie, Dora is crying into the best tea towels in the kitchen,
and unless you want to face a mutiny in Stoke Pomeroy with every female member
against you forever, I suggest you get in there and make amends. Why are you in
such a bad mood?’
Frankie
peered from behind the paper, took a deep breath, and put it down. ‘I’m sorry,
Eddie, truly I am. I promise I’ll sort it out.’
Five minutes
later he was back, and when Dora came in seconds later bearing hot plates of
bacon, egg, and extra slices of fried bread, she was beaming, and her cheeks
rather pink. It really was infuriating, Eddie thought. If that had been him,
Dora wouldn’t have spoken for a week, let alone be all over him with eyelashes
fluttering. When she’d gone, he waited a few minutes until Frankie had consumed
most of his breakfast.
‘Just what’s
upsetting you? I wish you’d talk about it, and don’t tell me you’re fine
because I’ve been watching you get steadily worse all week.’
Frankie
paused, before he put down his knife and fork to gaze out across the rectory
garden. The roses were in bloom, and seeing the little bench covered by the
arch where they tumbled didn’t improve matters. It had been a favourite spot
for him and Alice to talk of their plans all those years ago. ‘I suppose I’m
just not easy to live with any more.’
‘Oh, come on,
Frankie, that’s nonsense and you know it. I recognise this behaviour of old. If
you want my opinion, and I know you probably don’t, I think it’s a woman, or at
least, one in particular.’
‘Who do you
mean?’
‘You’ve been
stirred up ever since you saw Alice Milton for the first time. You might think
you’re fooling everyone by flirting with her sister, but I’m not convinced.’
‘Well, you’re
wrong, Eddie. Yes, it’s been unsettling seeing Alice again, not least because I
can’t believe what’s happened to her. Where has the girl gone that stole my
heart with her dazzling personality and stunning beauty? Where is that sweet,
kind and lovely person I fell in love with?’
‘Alice is
still there, Frankie, but it’s been hard for her, I’m sure. You know what Lord
Milton is like, and life hasn’t been easy since the war.’
‘Hard for her? She made her choice, Eddie. Not
only did she throw our engagement away, but made it quite clear that I wasn’t
good enough. I tell you now, whatever you think, I have no feelings left for
her, and I know you will not want to hear this as my brother and spiritual
guide, but I cannot forgive her either.’
Eddie didn’t
speak for a moment. He’d probably said too much he thought, and hadn’t been as
sensitive as he ought. Where he was normally patient and understanding with his
parishioners, his brother always managed to rile and bring out the worst in
him. He hated to see the two people who anyone could see belonged together
unable to even have a conversation, let alone ever be as they once were, and
now it seemed it was too late.
‘Why can’t
you forgive her?’ Eddie managed to say in a measured tone.
‘Because she
should have stood up to them, she should have told her father that she was
leaving, and that she couldn’t live without me. I thought she was strong, but
I’ve come to learn Alice was just weak, and I’ve no room for anyone in my life
like that.’
‘So, it
really is all over between you?’
Frankie
nodded. ‘I will admit, I loved her like no other, and I’ve never met anyone to
match her equal, but I’ve no desire to rekindle any kind of relationship with
Alice.’
Knowing how
deeply Frankie was clearly affected, Eddie felt he couldn’t offer any advice.
He just felt really sorry and sad that there was nothing to be done. All he
could hope was that in time Frankie would realise how stubborn he was being.
‘And before
you say anything else, Eddie, I’ve made up my mind. I’m quite ready to fall in
love again, and either one of those Milton girls will do. Cora is sweet, and
Emily is very eager to please. Besides, she has a strong character, as well as
being an absolute darling, and something tells me that this time her father
won’t put any obstacles in our way.’
When Jane
stepped into Lady Milton’s bedroom she nearly gasped out loud. Dove grey walls
were contrasted with swathes of glossy pink silk swagged across the windows,
and draped over the bed, whilst underfoot a soft cream carpet completed the
picture of opulence. It was a very modern room filled with the latest
furniture, of highly polished pieces with sinuous legs, and curving sunbursts
in a variety of woods. Two wonderful examples were displayed at the ends of
Lady Milton’s huge bed that was magnificently crowned by a ciel de lit, from which were suspended more swags of the same
shimmering silk to form a canopy. Unlike the rest of the house there’d been no
expense spared in this room.
Invited to
take a seat on one of the satin covered slipper chairs, Jane sat down whilst
Lady Milton fussed about one of the maids who was arranging armfuls of dresses
over the bed. Alice had been right, Jane saw a collection of evening wear
selected on its suitability for a governess, nothing too short or outlandish in
colour, but nonetheless the dresses were made of the finest silks, satins and
chiffons. It was a long time since Jane had felt girlish excitement on seeing
such confections, but she couldn’t help feeling rather pleased.
A knock at
the door heralded Marcel, and after the inevitable exchange of kisses on each
cheek, Lady Milton introduced his clients. He stood at a distance and regarded
them, his head first on one side and then on the other. There was a lot of
clucking and twirling of his waxed moustache, and several times when he came
closer to ruffle Jane’s hair she thought he might catch her ear with his
twirling scissors.
‘There’s
nothing else to be done,’ he said in broken English, ‘it must all come off!
Luckily, Miss Alice has the perfect shaped head for a close bob, and Miss
Austen’s curls will frame her face quite delightfully.’
‘Then there’s
no time to lose,’ said Lady Milton and instructed the maid. ‘Daisy, let’s take
Miss Milton and Miss Austen to the bathroom and you can help by washing their
hair to start.’
Large mirrors
hung above two console basins on porcelain legs, and a capacious curved bath
was arranged against a backdrop of pale grey tiles, and soft pink walls in the
vast room. Again, nothing had been skimped on, and an additional dressing
table, complete with built-in shell lights was littered over with exotic
looking phials and bottles filled with scent, powder bowls, and enormous
swansdown puffs on long handles.
Marcel
flourished his scissors and the girls sat down to take turns having their hair
washed before nervously taking a seat at the dressing table for their haircut.
Alice went first, and Jane watched her long thick hair fall to the floor in a
few short snips. Marcel circulated and considered, tweaked and trimmed until he
was happy, and when Alice turned round there were genuine sighs of admiration.
‘Oh, Alice,
my dear,’ cried Lady Milton, ‘you do look a picture.’
Alice beamed,
and Jane thought how very much the short hair suited her elfin face. Her friend
couldn’t stop smiling, and patted the bare nape of her neck.
‘I feel so
very modern,’ Alice giggled, ‘and quite girlish.’
‘It’s taken
years off you,’ said Lady Milton in her inimitable way. ‘You’ll have a queue of
suitors just waiting to escort you now, you’ll see!’
When it was
Jane’s turn she was too nervous to watch in the mirror as Marcel set to work.
She saw her chestnut curls lying on the bathroom floor as Daisy bustled round
to sweep them up in a dust pan, before they were gone forever. Marcel twisted
and twirled, fluffed and finger-waved, until he stood back at last and declared
he was finished.
Jane’s eyes
had been screwed tight shut, but now she was forced to open them and take a
long look in the mirror.
‘You look
beautiful,’ said Alice, coming to stand next to her chair, ‘and though you were
before, I have to say short hair looks wonderful on you.’
It was
astonishing to see the difference the haircut made. Jane loved the short bob on
sight, not just because she admitted to herself that she looked quite pretty,
but also because it felt so liberating. It was dry already, and the curls
forming round her face swept round to her neck where she felt a breeze from the
open window kiss her nape. She felt a little giddy with pleasure, and decided
she liked the boyish look.
‘Now, Marcel,
we need a finishing touch,’ said Lady Milton. ‘Have you brought your
cosmetics?’
‘Oh no, I
don’t like anything on my face, I …’ Jane began.
‘I will
simply enhance what is already there, my dear,’ insisted Marcel, as he unlocked
a large silver box filled with bottles, assorted potions, and glass jars filled
with cream. ‘Do not fear, I am not here to make you look like a clown.’
Alice and
Jane gave in to his commands while Daisy acted as assistant. Their faces were
steamed with hot water, cleansed with creams, refreshed with astringent
lotions, and patted dry with crisp white cloths. They were massaged and
stroked, dabbed at and daubed, until their complexions were smooth as marble.
Jane had to
admit her tingling skin felt soft to the touch, and silkier than it had ever
done before. When Marcel insisted on a light touch of ivory powder she allowed
herself to close her eyes and surrender to the whisper touch of the swansdown
puff.
‘One moment,’
he said, as he instructed her to lean back in the chair and close her eyes
again. ‘Now you will see how make-up need not be a man-made mask, Miss Austen.
I will merely add to your natural beauty.’
Alice looked
equally beautiful. ‘I feel rejuvenated,’ she said, ‘and I’m so glad I had you
to hold my hand through the whole experience, Jane.’
‘I wouldn’t
have missed it for the world,’ said Jane with genuine appreciation. She
couldn’t take her eyes off the stranger who looked back in the mirror.
‘Now for your
dress, Miss Austen,’ said Lady Milton. ‘Daisy has arranged a selection on the
bed, and you must take your pick. Don’t be afraid to take at least three, I
have no use for them any more, and I’d rather someone had the benefit. Besides,
it’ll free up some space for some more.’
Jane wanted to
laugh at that, and did her best to stop the smile forming on her lips. They all
trooped back into the bedroom, but the sight of the dresses was overwhelming.
She’d never seen so many and couldn’t imagine how many Flora Milton must own if
these were just the cast-offs.
‘There’s a
screen over in the corner. Take a few at a time, and try them on. That’s the
best way to do it, I find. Sometimes a dress can look nothing on the hanger,
but a body can make a transformation.’
Lady Milton
was being very kind, Jane thought. With Alice’s help she picked out a pale blue
silk dress in tiers trimmed with coffee coloured lace, a dress of Nile green
chiffon with a dropped waist, and a coral velvet, topped with a net bodice.
Lightly embellished with bugle beads or pearls, the dresses were examples of
understated taste, which suited Jane perfectly. When she emerged from behind
the screen there were gasps of approval.
As if that
wasn’t enough two pairs of evening shoes were found, and a box of necklaces
were brought out of a cupboard to be spilled out onto the pink silk
counterpane. Lady Milton insisted on picking out some long beads; Venetian
glass to go with the blue dress, Jade to go with the green, and a string of
long pearls to contrast with the coral velvet.
‘I couldn’t possibly
accept them,’ Jane insisted, but Lady Milton wouldn’t budge.
‘Nonsense, my
dear, if you are to represent the family when out with my daughters, we cannot
have you looking anything but suitably dressed and adorned. Besides, they are
all faux, of a refined style, and most fitting.’
Alice quickly
agreed that Jane must have some jewellery, to cover Lady Milton’s gaffe,
emphasising the fact that no one wore real jewels out any more.
Jane felt
relieved, and glad she wasn’t going to be the guardian of a set of precious
jewels. It was decided she should wear the pale blue silk for the evening’s
dinner, and when she had it on again Alice stood behind her to clasp the
Venetian beads round her neck.
‘Now, take a
look in the glass,’ Lady Milton instructed.
Jane stared
in shock. She couldn’t recognise herself in the long glass mirror or the
transformation that had taken place.
‘I hardly
know myself,’ she gasped.
‘But it is
you, and you look simply divine,’ Alice enthused.
Jane felt
caught up in Alice’s excitement at her transformation, and even felt a
thrilling sense of decadence, a sensation of being both wicked and wild, and a
little sinful to be taking such pleasure in being young and feeling so
ecstatically alive again. The young woman in the mirror had a peaches and cream
complexion. Jane’s red cheeks had always been a cause for concern, glowing
pinker than ever when she was nervous or embarrassed, but Marcel had managed to
tone down the effect to one which had her turning her head first one way and then
another in amazement at her reflection. She was still blushing, but now her
ivory skin was tinted with a hint of pale rose. Her eyelashes were not exactly
darker, but looked thicker, gleaming with a silky sheen, as moist as her lips,
artfully painted an enticing rouge, just a shade brighter than her natural
colour. The effect was lovely, and she had to agree that it was not too much,
and no one would know she had anything of artifice about her at all.
The
calf-length dress caressed curves she didn’t know she had, and her heeled shoes
showed her pretty ankles at their best. Something about the magical combination
of the glacé blue silk and coffee lace made her hazel eyes glow as if stippled
with lustrous sapphires in their depths. Being both restrained with its lace
trim, and daring in its cut, the dress gave off an aura of elegant finesse, and
twinned with her new hair made her look like a woman of fashion.
Jane no
longer saw a governess too afraid of life to be herself. Her reflection showed
a goddess of poise and refinement, an intriguing lady of sophisticated
splendour who looked as if she was ready to take on the world. It was simply
wonderful to feel such blissful pleasure in being so vain, a luxury she hadn’t
allowed herself in an age. All she could think about was what Will would think
of her new look, and though he was bound to tease her, she couldn’t help hoping
that he might like it.
I hope you've enjoyed these chapters from Jane Austen Lives Again. Next week I'm going to be posting from another of my published books - I hope you'll join me in Steventon!
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
This is a thoroughly delightful read. Jane Austen re-awakens in the 1920s, 110 years after her death, and faces the new industrial world with her usual aplomb. Trains and motorised cars, along with shorter skirts, must be accepted. In reduced circumstances, she has to work as a governess. Noting the changes in environment, manners and appearance, but never succumbing to depression or undue anxiety, Miss Austen deals with the same daily social tasks and complications that her characters did. She has young women to encourage and chasten into suitable romances – while not remaining immune herself. The author has convincingly captured Jane Austen’s tone and personality. The 1920s come to life in the way that they affected a rural, once rich, family. The characters are true to Austen’s own novels and I am sure, were she defrosted into life for real, she would be amused and pleased to read this novel. Historical Novel Society
Travelling
to Devonshire aboard a steam train, Jane Austen remarks to her
companion and physician: ‘Dr Lyford, if I can survive embalming, the
subsequent resurrection and the effects of transdifferentiation, I will
live to tell the tale …’
Imagine a world where Jane Austen and her favorite characters exist in a Downton Abbey atmosphere—Impossible, you say, and yet, apart from the passage of years, they are all gentlemen and gentlemen’s daughters, as Elizabeth Bennet so succinctly puts it. In Jane Odiwe’s latest novel, Jane Austen Lives Again, our favorite author does not die at 42 in Winchester, but is kept, somehow in stasis, until Dr. Lyford can not only cure her last lingering illness, but revive her again in the prime of her life. The scientific details are not spelled out, and honestly, it doesn’t matter, as Ms. Odiwe’s book will captivate you from the first. Finally we are able to see Jane “live again” sans vampires and magic, and enjoy her introduction to modern life in the 1920’s.
Laura Boyle Jane Austen Centre Online Review
Amazon UK AmazonUS
Book Reviews
I hope you've enjoyed these chapters from Jane Austen Lives Again. Next week I'm going to be posting from another of my published books - I hope you'll join me in Steventon!
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
This is a thoroughly delightful read. Jane Austen re-awakens in the 1920s, 110 years after her death, and faces the new industrial world with her usual aplomb. Trains and motorised cars, along with shorter skirts, must be accepted. In reduced circumstances, she has to work as a governess. Noting the changes in environment, manners and appearance, but never succumbing to depression or undue anxiety, Miss Austen deals with the same daily social tasks and complications that her characters did. She has young women to encourage and chasten into suitable romances – while not remaining immune herself. The author has convincingly captured Jane Austen’s tone and personality. The 1920s come to life in the way that they affected a rural, once rich, family. The characters are true to Austen’s own novels and I am sure, were she defrosted into life for real, she would be amused and pleased to read this novel. Historical Novel Society
So
begins Jane Odiwe’s ‘fairy story for grown-ups’, in which Austen is
brought back from the dead - scientifically, rather than miraculously -
and transported to the west of England in 1925. Penniless (her royalties
don’t go far in the Jazz Age) and - naturally - alone, she takes the
traditional route for single women of no fortune and becomes governess
to a clutch of sparky girls in a romantically crumbling castle by the
sea.
She
finds the bohemian Milton family quite enchanting, and is sure that she
can bring some old-fashioned order to their somewhat chaotic existence -
but to her initial dismay finds herself falling for the dark-eyed,
curly-haired, and handsome son of the house. What follows is pure
romance, but with the twists of humour and intrigue that Odiwe’s readers
have come to expect. This is such an enjoyable tale - Odiwe handles the
1920s setting with the same assurance that she has brought to her
Regency-set novels, and her rendering of a 20th century Jane is a
delight. Jane Austen's Regency World Magazine
With Jane Austen being alive in the 1920’s and earning her keep as a governess, Jane Austen Lives Again sometimes felt like Downton Abbey meets Mary Poppins/Sound of Music (which are some of my favorite things!). It
was a wonderful blend of history, fiction, and fairy tale! Absorbing,
ingenious, and immensely satisfying – you definitely don’t want to miss Jane Austen Lives Again!
Meredith Esparza - Austenesque Reviews
Meredith Esparza - Austenesque Reviews
Imagine a world where Jane Austen and her favorite characters exist in a Downton Abbey atmosphere—Impossible, you say, and yet, apart from the passage of years, they are all gentlemen and gentlemen’s daughters, as Elizabeth Bennet so succinctly puts it. In Jane Odiwe’s latest novel, Jane Austen Lives Again, our favorite author does not die at 42 in Winchester, but is kept, somehow in stasis, until Dr. Lyford can not only cure her last lingering illness, but revive her again in the prime of her life. The scientific details are not spelled out, and honestly, it doesn’t matter, as Ms. Odiwe’s book will captivate you from the first. Finally we are able to see Jane “live again” sans vampires and magic, and enjoy her introduction to modern life in the 1920’s.
Amazon UK AmazonUS
Book Reviews
