Chapter Ten
Liberty was not very well in the night, and
predictably, in the morning said she couldn’t possibly get up and go to the
dig. Everyone agreed that it would probably be best if she stayed in bed to
sleep it off and when Mrs Hill was told a little white lie that Liberty had
eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her, she seemed unperturbed, saying she
would keep an eye on her though she was due to go out later to visit one of her
sisters at Dummer, a nearby village. Ellie volunteered to come back in the
afternoon to check on her and so they all left for Steventon, choosing to walk
as it was yet another beautiful day.
Jess was in two states of mind. ‘I don’t know what
Charlie must have thought of us all last night,’ she confided to Ellie as they
walked along. Even though it was still early, the sun was beating through the
canopy of trees that arched over their heads. It was going to be another hot
day.
‘I don’t think he was shocked at all,’ Ellie answered.
‘I’m sure he’s seen a few people worse for wear in his time, though she was
spectacularly loud. And who was that guy? Didn’t she see his wedding ring?’
‘You know Liberty, it’s not that she would purposely
do such a thing, she just doesn’t think. I wonder why she craves such
attention; though I know her home life is a bit chaotic. Her father’s never
been one for being at home. He’s always away on business and, even when he is
there, he doesn’t seem very interested in spending time with her. Perhaps if he
took a little more notice, she wouldn’t be so desperate for any man’s
attention. I must admit, I feel sorry for her.’
‘I do. Her mother doesn’t seem much better. Liberty
told me she has an allowance on top of her student loan and her mother
encourages her to spend it. It seems a bit irresponsible to support such
reckless spending, especially as Liberty told me she has an overdraft as well.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realise it was as bad as that; it’s a
cry for help, I think. I’m not sure what we can do to help, but I’ll try
to keep an eye on her.’
‘We’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t get into any
more trouble that could easily be avoided. Anyway, the upside of last night is
that you got a drive home in Charlie’s very smart car,’ said Ellie, grinning at
her friend. ‘And, I couldn’t help noticing that it seemed to take you a little
while to say goodnight to him.’
‘Ellie, he is gorgeous. I think he’s one of the nicest
guys I’ve ever met. His sister seems very friendly too.’
‘Does she?’ Ellie didn’t know quite what to say. That
wasn’t the impression she’d got, but then Jess always saw something good to say
about everybody.
‘I was talking to her just before you alerted me to
Liberty’s escapade. She’s younger than Charlie, but at Oxford like him. I got
the impression she hangs around with her brother and Henry quite a lot. It’s
really nice that they’re so close. They must have a good family background.’
‘I’m sure they have,’ answered Ellie, ‘and it’s very
clear she likes Henry. Perhaps that’s why she was glaring at anyone who looked
at them together. Not that I’d ever be interested in him, but I suppose
some people might be attracted to a hateful, rich boy.’
Jess laughed. ‘I think you’ll like Zara when you get
to know her, and really, Henry can’t be that bad if he’s a friend of Charlie’s.
He is such a lovely person; I don’t believe he’d make friends with anyone
awful.’
‘You are a truly wonderful person. I hope Charlie is
good enough to deserve you. Are you excited at the thought of seeing him
again?’
‘I must admit I am.’
Ellie took her friend’s arm. ‘I have such a good
feeling about you two. And I’m so excited to witness the pair of you falling in
love!’
‘And, how about you, Ellie? Have you met your handsome
Mr Darcy again?’
‘I have, Jess, though I am sure you’ll not believe it
when I tell you. I cannot believe it myself!’
‘It’s Tom, isn’t it – Tom Lefroy?’
‘How could you possibly know that?’
‘Oh, Ellie, I’ve suspected it from your very first
encounter. You are witnessing Jane and Tom falling in love, I think.’
‘I cannot understand how or why this is happening to
me. I’m visiting the past, travelling through time, if you like, and it’s so
real when I’m there that nothing else exists. But, I sincerely wish it were all
happening to you, and not me … none of it makes any sense.’
‘I’m sure there is a reason, Ellie, and despite what
you think, I do not envy you. I know a little about Jane Austen’s life, and I
do not think I am strong enough, emotionally or physically, to experience
anyone else’s time on earth. I’m having enough trouble with my own.’
‘That’s true; Jess, and I know from experience that
these ‘happenings’ rarely last long. Even so, they are exhausting. I just hope
it will all resolve itself in the end.’
‘Don’t worry, Ellie, I have a feeling that everything
will become clear before long, and in the meantime, I shall be here to hold
your hand all the way.’
Jess and Charlie instantly made a beeline for the
other. Charlie had contrived to get his computer placed a desk nearer to Jess
in the operations tent, and whenever they had a spare moment, one or other of
them would sidle over for a chat, often on the pretext of having found some
nugget of treasure that had just been brought in.
Martha settled to her careful digging. Using a trowel,
the painstaking work was in progress. To her great excitement several shards of
china were showing up, encrusted with dark soil. When she carefully removed the
dirt, she could make out a very distinctive design. Still in use today, the
blue and white willow pattern was easily recognisable. Several pieces looked as
if they might fit together to form part of a large platter. Everyone was
thrilled for her, and the hunt for more treasures continued in earnest. Martha
carefully bagged up her find to take it over to Cara and the others who were
waiting to inspect anything that might be carefully washed and sorted. Passing
Ellie, who was sketching the landscape, she stopped to show her what she’d
found.
Ellie smiled in recognition at the blue and white
willow pattern shards of porcelain, and when she reached out to inspect the
pieces, taking one or two carefully from the bag, she almost felt herself being
pulled back again into the past. It was like looking down a long telescope at
images that flickered like those on a silent cinema screen. She could see the
dining parlour of the old rectory with every shelf, and every windowsill
decorated with holly, ivy and paper streamers cut from gold paper. Sprays of
holly hung from every picture, and even the clock had its own crown. Festoons
of fir were strung across the mantel and twisted in garlands and a kissing
bunch dangled from the ceiling with mistletoe and ribbon. The maidservants were
lighting candles, fires roared in the grates and the table groaned with such
delights as a roasted turkey resting on a willow platter in the middle of the
table, rabbits with sorrel sauce, mince pies, a side of ham, gooseberry tart
and fruit jellies. Nanny Littleworth and Rebecca were bringing in hot food from
the oven, tureens of soup, platters of roast beef, dishes of snowy potatoes and
sauceboats of rich gravy. The figures were shadowy, but there were Mr and Mrs
Austen at either end of the gleaming table, which was set out for a banquet, on
blue and white china. Jane in white muslin with a pale blue sash had her hair piled
high, showing small pale ears like pink shells, and a ribbon, of the same
cornflower hue as her sash, wreathed through her chestnut curls. Brothers
Henry, Frank and Charles, were laughing at some shared joke, all looking very
handsome. Ellie wished she could see more, but the pictures were already
fading. As she placed the precious bag of shards back into Martha’s hands she
felt grateful for this extra glimpse of life at Steventon.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Martha, looking at her with a
puzzled expression. ‘You have a really faraway look on your face.’
‘Yes, I’m just lost in time, I suppose,’ she answered
truthfully, and with a secret smile on her face she picked up her paintbrush.
‘Don’t mind me, Martha; it’s just that sometimes I get totally absorbed. I’m
having a lovely time imagining the past and thinking about how it might have
looked then.’
‘It’s a dangerous thing, the imagination,’ said Martha
in her typically dry fashion before she walked off clutching her bag of
treasure.
The morning passed off well though nothing more
remarkable than some extra pieces of pottery were found in the excavation
areas. By mid-afternoon, Ellie had finished her painting and both Will
MacGourtey and Greg Whitely had been over to inspect and praise it. There was
no sign of Liberty so she was obviously still feeling poorly. After checking
with Jess who looked happy enough labelling a box full of pottery pieces with
Charlie by her side, she set off for the rectory. The sun had continued to
blaze down all morning and it was quite delicious to walk in the cool shade
under trees. By the time she got to Ashe, the heat was almost unbearable.
Entering the house, it was very quiet and there was such a sense of stillness
about the place; Ellie didn’t think there could be anyone at home. Mrs Hill had
clearly been there earlier; the fragrances of beeswax on polished wood and
lavender in the bowls of pot-pourri smelt fresh and new. Perhaps Liberty was
still asleep, she thought, and made her way up the staircase to Liberty’s room.
She knocked on her door but there was no answer, and it was only when she heard
a noise downstairs that she went to investigate.
Liberty appeared then, dressed in a bikini with a
towel slung over her shoulder, and a drink in her hand. ‘OMG!’ she shouted,
completely taken by surprise. ‘Ellie, you’ve totally freaked me out! Why didn’t
you call me to say you were coming back?’
‘I didn’t want to disturb you in case you were still
asleep,’ said Ellie. ‘Are you feeling better now?’
Liberty raised her glass, full of pink liquid and
tinkling with ice. ‘I’m fine, nothing that a French Martini won’t sort out,
hair of the dog and all that!’
‘I’m not sure that’s a very good idea, Liberty. Well,
I just came to check on you, make sure you weren’t dying.’
Liberty smiled before draining her glass. ‘Thanks,
Ellie, you are lovely. I’m just taking it easy by the swimming pool. It’s so
hot and I couldn’t bear the thought of spending all day at the dig.’
Ellie knew Liberty could be thoughtless but this
behaviour exceeded everything that had ever gone before. She could easily have
phoned one of them to let them know she was up and fine. They would be bound to
be worried about her, but she supposed such a thought would never enter
Liberty’s head.
‘I won’t keep you from your swimming,’ Ellie said,
thinking it was not worth saying anything else. ‘I’m just going to change into
something cooler and I’ll head back. See you later.’
Liberty turned, tossing her hair over her shoulders
and waving one hand in the air as she made her way back to the kitchen, no
doubt with the idea of replenishing her glass.
Back at the dig, Ellie found Jess. She knew she would
be worrying about Liberty, even if it were clear that Liberty suffered no
qualms on that score.
‘How was Liberty?’ Jess smiled when she saw Ellie and
put down her pen, glad to have an excuse to stop labelling for a minute.
‘Right as rain, and knocking back vodka cocktails by
the swimming pool,’ said Ellie, unable to disguise her feelings. ‘I almost
wished I hadn’t bothered, but at least you can stop worrying about her. She is
still alive.’
‘Thank you for checking up on her for me,’ said Jess.
‘I couldn’t rest after the state she was in last night.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose for one minute that Liberty has
been worrying about how her behaviour might have impacted on us. You must stop
taking the responsibility of her upon your shoulders, Jess. She’s old enough to
look after herself.’
‘I know, but I do feel responsible. It was me who
suggested she come on the trip, after all.’
‘Just don’t go losing any sleep and worrying too much.
I’ll keep an eye on her, she’ll be fine.’
Charlie joined them just then, sauntering over with
that easy style he had. Ellie almost felt a twinge of envy. She wished someone
would look at her like Charlie was looking at Jess. He was very boyish, and his
blue eyes twinkled with obvious pleasure at the sight of her.
‘I’ve come to ask a special favour. My mother runs
this annual charity ball at home, and she’s asked me to pass on an invitation.
I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but I’d love it if you’d like to come … all
of you, of course. Henry and my sister will be there, and I’m asking the other
volunteers too.’
Jess looked at her friend with pleading eyes.
‘When is it?’ Ellie asked.
‘A week today … please say yes, it would make my day
if you could come.’
‘Yes, we’d love to,’ Jess said, before Ellie had a
chance to speak. And she didn’t need to, because it seemed that Jess and
Charlie were oblivious to everything around them.
It was Ellie’s idea that they should look into the
church before they went home. St. Nicholas church, a simple building built of
grey stone and flint, guarded by giant yew trees, felt homely and cared for
inside. There were hassocks lovingly stitched in needlepoint, embroidered
pennants, brass candelabra and vases of flowers on every surface, some
cultivated and some wild, which filled the interior with the scent of summer
roses and lilies. Upon a display table, they found leaflets and postcards about
the church and some information on Jane Austen. The church was early English,
built sometime at the beginning of the 13th century.
‘We have to imagine the church without the spire, said
Jess, reading from a leaflet, ‘if we are to ‘see’ it as Jane did … that wasn’t
added until the middle of the 19th century, apparently. There’s a bronze memorial in the
nave, which commemorates her life.’
The simple plaque was soon found. Erected by Jane’s
great grandniece, Emma Austen-Leigh, in 1936, the simple tablet confirmed the
dates of birth and death of the famous author and the fact that she’d
worshipped in the church. Below it, someone had thoughtfully arranged a brass
vase of tea roses with peach-pink hearts and fading petals of an old-fashioned
variety, their yellow stamens shedding on the linen sampler.
‘It’s too cold in here for me,’ said Cara. ‘It’s all
very lovely, but churches give me the creeps, I’m afraid, all those dead people
under our feet. You can almost feel them, somehow, and I’m not sure I want to
stick around. I’ll see you all back at the car. Are you coming, Martha?’
They wandered off outside, and Martha soon followed
saying she wanted to investigate the gravestones to see if she could find any
of the Steventon dignitaries mentioned in one of the pamphlets she’d picked up.
Ellie and Jess sat on one of the oak pews near the
front.
‘Just think, Jane Austen might have sat right here in
this very seat,’ said Jess. ‘In any case, we know she worshipped here and that
her father stood right there to deliver his sermons.’
Ellie shivered. She suddenly felt terribly cold. The stone
walls of the church seemed to prevent any of the sun’s warmth from penetrating
and her thin cardigan felt completely inadequate. Looking up to the window set
high above her head, she noticed that grey clouds were passing overhead, the
sky a sheet of dark steel. The interior was plunged into darkness for a moment
and she knew time was shifting again. She tried calling out to Jess, but her
friend seemed oblivious, trapped in another dimension. Reality was blurring,
everything around her shimmered and quivered so that she glimpsed images from
both the present and the past. Ellie felt she was slipping once more into
another world and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was
drifting outside towards the churchyard, and the real world seemed a million
miles away. The leaves on the trees above were turning, she noticed, from
summer greens to autumn yellows, and heaps of them lay in drifts of amber and
lemon, cinnamon and tangerine. Long skirts replaced her jeans, which slowed her
progress over the snow-covered grass. An icy feather flicked her nose as it
fell to the ground, and was swiftly followed by another. As if a great goose
were being plucked in the skies above, the feathers grew thicker and faster, as
big as two pound pieces. Ellie felt grateful for the warm layers she wore as
the snow whirled from the heavens, and pulling up the scarlet hood on her long
cape, she tucked her hands inside to keep them warm. And then she was aware of
a voice calling to her. It was difficult to hear at first, and she couldn’t
tell from which direction it came so she had to close her eyes to focus all her
attention. When she opened them again, she was standing in a real-life
snowglobe, and the voice was more insistent. She turned her head to see Anne
Lefroy’s Irish hunter, but it wasn’t Madame who was exercising him that
morning. Tom sat astride the beautiful horse, reins in hand and then he called
her name again.
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
