Never Mind!

by Nicky Roth

  She could not help feeling sorry for him, even though it looked fairly funny how he was limp-running after Hermes.

  Okay, now she just needed to shepherd her mother and sisters back to their van and all would be well.

  Yeah, just...- Right.

  She would end up running after them like Darcy was running after his horse.

  Chapter 10:

  'Regency Romp'

  Okay, so where were they? The car was still there so they must be close by. Hopefully.

  Looking around her, Elizabeth's jaw dropped.

  Mr Darcy running after his horse was by far the most normal sight there was, as were the firemen, who, though snickering, were surprisingly professional. Well, from what she'd heard they had seen worse and weirder things. Like Penny and his attempt in show cooking going tits-up, Mrs Jameson and her lover being wedged tight in an uncomplying folding bed (her now ex-husband was one of the firemen and had been on shift...), and, of course, the absolute classic, Mr Abernathy trapped in the nozzle of his vacuum cleaner...

  The filming of a porn movie, by comparison, probably appeared rather normal to them.

  She felt for Bingley and Jane, but at least they were huddled together like two fearful children while Kitty and Lydia had made good use of the distraction and unsurprisingly were now in the midst of it.

  While Kitty at least had the decency to keep her head up and her eyes above the waistline, Lydia was unabashedly staring downward at the naked man in front of her, as was her mother... Bloody hell! Wasn't she getting too old for this? Okay, her father had been away for... - No, she would not finish this thought!

  She knew, of course, that her parents must have had sex at some point in their lives, otherwise, they would not have had five daughters, but it was not an image she wanted to have stuck in her brain.

  But by the looks of it, her mother and sisters either didn't care or still had not realised what was going on.

  'Mum, don't you think we should leave now. I think we've seen enough...'

  'Nonsense, we have hardly taken a good look, Lizzy. And they are such nice people.'

  Gods! Just why? And besides, her mother definitely had a good enough look.

  Okay, how to put it best without offending anyone?

  'Mama, I think we better leave.'

  'Oh come, Lizzy, don't be such a prude. You must have seen a naked man before,' Lydia giggled, batting her eyes at the man before her.

  Even he seemed fairly embarrassed by now and that had to say something, for he surely must be used to people taking a closer look at his privates. But he didn't cover them either. Thinking about it though, that might be even more embarrassing right now.

  'Just because they happened to shoot a love scene in the film, doesn't make it porn, after all, does it?' her mother smiled flustered.

  It would be no use to point out that very rarely actors actually got completely naked for intimate scenes. And that they wouldn't require lube...

  'No...'

  'Oh, but that is exactly what we do, isn't it Josh? Earlier the two of us had such a good shag, didn't we?' the contact-lens lady piped up all of a sudden obviously keen on saying something - anything. 'It's quite fun, you know? You get to meet so many wonderful people.'

  Josh, the man in the nude, looked perplexed then exasperated.

  'Shouldn't you be somewhere in the house, Gloria?' he asked tersely.

  Ah, so that was her name. Well, she didn't look very glorious in Elizabeth's opinion. Actually far from it. Would it be considered murder if she throttled her on the spot or would it count as self-defence?

  'Yeah, but I don't know where I'm supposed to be going.'

  Of course, she didn't. Surprise!

  'You know the house is awfully big and all those stairs and rooms and all look the same somehow,' she carried on, not appearing in the slightest embarrassed or concerned about her lack of finding her way around.

  'Well, it would help if you wore your contacts,' Elizabeth could not help remarking, earning her a snort from Josh.

  'Porn? You are filming pornography here at Netherfield?' Mrs Bennet, at last, recovered her voice, looking thoroughly shocked all of a sudden.

  'Yeah, sure. Monty is famous for them. You've probably heard of him. You know he's the one behind “Baroque Babes”, “Victorian Virgins”, and “Tudor Tarts”, he's made a couple of more, but I've forgotten their titles. I was the star in all of them, of course, and remembering everything with all the lines I have to memorise can be a bit challenging. This one is going to be released as “Regency Romp”. Brilliant title, isn't it? So ingenious! But Monty is always so clever with his titles.'

  Yeah, right...

  'And you should see his scripts! Very witty, I tell you, when I come into the room during my first scene, I'm supposed to say... - Oh, wait, what was it? I can't quite recall...'

  Who would have thought? And what scripts? What could they possibly say aside from the obligatory moaning and demands to go faster or deeper?

  'I can't believe Mr Bingley would let anybody use his home to film pornography!'

  Obviously, her mother had still not got over that wee bit of information. Knowing her, it would take time and a visit to her sister's. Oh, joy! But that was what one got for not listening.

  'Ah, now I remember,' Gloria beamed at her, much like Archimedes must have looked when crying out “eureka” when he'd discovered his principles. 'It's these stupid French names that get me confused, you know? But I think I've nailed the accent. I always do. - “Welcome to my home, Monsieur d'Arcy, I hope you have had a good ride.” - Brilliant innuendo, isn't it? Ride...- There is more, but I think I need to look it up again.'

  Or have someone read it to her more like. Reading seemed a bit too complex for Gloria to be able to manage all on her own. Just to think of memorising all the letters of the alphabet. There were twenty-six of them after all and they had a tendency to appear in different orders when spelling out the various words. All very tricky. And yes, definitely nailed the accent. Not. She just sounded as if she had a stuffy nose.

  Wait, what had she just said? “Welcome Monsieur d'Arcy”???!!! Holy shit!

  And as if on queue Mr Darcy rounded the corner with his petulant horse in tow, limping and looking positively pissed. His ride had obviously not been a good one.

  But seriously, there was nothing to do but to start laughing hysterically.

  Where was the candid camera? This could not be for real, could it? It was just too much. Even the folks from Little Britain would never dare attempt a sketch like this, for fear it would be too over the top.

  'I'm glad you could catch your horse again, Sir, I told them it was a bad idea to take it out of its box when it was clearly nervous...'

  It was Josh, naked as he was, who managed to bring back some sense. Darcy, however still looked thunderous, though he gave a short, acknowledging nod in the young man's direction, before taking a deep breath.

  'And who took Hermes out of his box?' Darcy demanded to know, his voice raised so he could address everyone at once. 'For I swear I'll kick this person's bollocks! Have you lot any idea what you are first of all doing to this poor animal and secondly how much I had to pay for him? Bloody hell, at the very least you could have asked! Not that I would have agreed to any of this, but I could have given you the number of a guy who trains animals for filming. Is it really too much to ask to keep your fingers of one's property?'

  'Miss Bingley told us you wouldn't mind, Sir.'

  Was that a vein throbbing on his temple?

  'Okay, let me tell you something, Miss Bingley might have organised you this location by tricking her brother into signing the contract with Monty, but Mr Bingley is the boss around here not his shrew of a sister. And besides, these are my horses. They don't belong to the house and are not inventory in any shape or form but actual living creatures and when one doesn't know how to handle them then stay the FUCK away!'

  'Hey man, chill down,' a stoned-looking man tried to interven
e, munching on a piece of cake or the like.

  'I already told you, I am fucking chilled, I've never been as bloody relaxed in all my life as I'm right now.'

  'Okay, okay, I get it, you don't want to calm down...'

  'That's not one of the muffins I bought this morning, is it?'

  The man just shrugged and held the last piece in front of Darcy's nose.

  Sighing Darcy muttered: 'Of course it bloody is. What was I thinking?'

  'I know just the right thing for you...' Gloria interjected and ignoring Darcy's angry face, or perhaps she could just not see it, put her hand on his shoulder. 'What you need, luv, is a nice little blow job. You are incredibly stiff darling.'

  'I'm tense, not fucking stiff, and certainly not at the moment anyway and now take your hands off of me. And don't even think of getting your mouth anywhere close to my crotch. Ever.'

  'Oh come now, a bit of sex will relax you and I'm already prepared for my next scene..." she pulled out a bottle of lube from between her substantial bosom and held it up to implicate what she meant.

  Darcy did not dignify her with an answer but turned around on his heels, to stable his horse. Even when looking at his retreating back it was easy to see how livid he was.

  'Lizzy, we are leaving right now! Kitty, Lydia, come here! Jane?'

  Oh, all of a sudden her mother wanted to leave. Just when it was starting to get interesting...

  And just when the situation was relaxing enough as the film-team, at last, resumed their work, for Bingley to explain it. For though he had stood with Jane, he did not seem to have said a lot, if anything. His face sported a brilliant shade of red.

  'We are not staying at this place for a moment longer!' her mother ranted on. 'This is despicable, to have such films made and in front of everybody. My poor young daughters, to have to witness such a disgraceful sight! I've always said that it is a very stupid idea to come here in the first place.'

  Of course, her mother's reality would, when it suited her, conveniently diverge from everybody else's, like her own for example, for as far as Elizabeth could remember... - But what did she know?

  Mrs Bennet steered towards Jane and Bingley, her face filled with indignation as she cried out: 'I have to say, Mr Bingley, I am very disappointed in you! You could have warned us.'

  The poor man's mouth fell open, his face red in shame anyway, turned a deeper shade of crimson, just when he had obviously calmed down enough to finally speak to Jane.

  Jane had that effect on people, Elizabeth knew that well. It always had on her.

  'Mama!'

  'Oh, don't mama me, Jane. I am sorry to say, my dear, but all men are the same. Always thinking of the one thing only, running after it with their appendages as if they were dipping rods reacting to water veins.'

  Well, theoretically she could have hardly put it any better. When it came to it, they were dipping rods reacting to wet places. But one look at her mother's face showed clearly that she had not taken notice of the double entendre of her words.

  However, Kitty giggled. Okay, at least one of her younger sisters was not completely daft. Oh dear, and Jane looked mortified.

  'Jane, I think it really might be better to leave at this point,' she nodded her head slightly towards her mother to indicate that she was the main reason she thought so. 'Perhaps you and Charles could meet later? For a chat?'

  'Meet that man later?! I'm not sure about his influence on my young and innocent daughters, Lizzy.'

  Young and innocent? They were either the one or the other but certainly not both. Okay, Mary was the exception but she wasn't here anyway.

  'Mum, Jane is twenty-three, she can make her own decisions, alright? So, you wanted to leave, then let's do so for heaven's sake.'

  'Please, just let us tell you how sorry we are for all this mess. We actually did try to keep it a secret, but it seems someone must have spilt the tea.'

  Where the heck had Darcy come from all of a sudden, wasn't he supposed to look after his horses?

  On top of that, he had managed to make both his friend and himself, look incredibly guilty in the matter with the way he had put his words. And though Elizabeth knew exactly what he meant and that he could hardly make excuses for things he had no hand in in the first place, her mother would surely take his words the wrong way.

  'You should not have let Netherfield to such people, that is what you should have done. Not try and keep this a secret. If you had acted as you ought, there would have been no need to keep secrets from your neighbours!'

  Yep. She only heard what she wanted to hear, as always.

  'If we have offended you, it was not intentional, Mrs Bennet.'

  'What's that?' someone shouted. 'Why is there no electricity here? I can't make a film like this!'

  'Dare we hope?' Darcy mumbled, his face exasperated to a point that she could have given him a hug only to cheer him up a little.

  But no, perhaps he would think her to be like Gloria, despite the decided difference between a hug and a blow job. Nope still bad idea. No hugs for Mr Darcy then. Never mind.

  Chapter 11:

  Gossipmongering

  'Why are we stopping at Aunty Rosie's?' Elizabeth asked, though she had a sneaky suspicion.

  Her mother was a hopeless gossip and her aunt was even worse.

  'After all that hubbub, I need someone sensible for a change,' Mrs Bennet sighed, parking the car at the side of the road right on two very visible yellow lines. 'I still can't believe Mr Bingley would do something like this. He had seemed such a nice man.'

  Sensible? Had she really just said she needed someone sensible and referred to Mrs Phillips in the same sentence? Yeah, sure. Okay, perhaps it had to be seen in comparison. When compared to Gloria, she could perhaps, with a lot of good will, be considered sensible.

  'Mama, Mr Bingley is a nice man. And honourable. I'm sure he's got nothing to do with all of this...' Elizabeth once again tried to argue with her mother.

  'Codswallop, it's his house, isn't it? So everything that's happening there is down to him.'

  Okay, there was no point trying to reason with her mother at the moment, she would not listen to any sense. And besides, to assume things and spread them, was always so much more interesting.

  'Mama, shouldn't you better park a little further down the road?' Jane asked with some concern in her voice not giving away much of what she actually felt about the situation. 'I mean, what if you get a ticket or they tow your car?'

  'Nonsense! Why would they do that? I park here all the time,' Mrs Bennet shrugged.

  That explained a lot. There was at least one parking ticket each month, often two or three.

  'As far as I know, you've never ever parked here, Mama,' Elizabeth threw in.

  'Maybe, but at any rate, this is an emergency, isn't it?'

  What on earth was her definition of an emergency? As far as Elizabeth was aware, the legal definition of an emergency was an event or a situation which threatened serious damage to human welfare. There was every reason to doubt that disposing of gossip as soon as one possibly could belonged in the realm of such situations or events, but she might be wrong there. Her mother would certainly think so and knowing her aunt she, too.

  'Do you want us to go shopping while you're talking to Aunt Rosie?' Elizabeth inquired, tired of listening to her mother and remembering the basically empty freezer and fridge at home.

  'Oh, but don't you want to visit your aunt? She is always so happy to see you.'

  Fanny Bennet looked expectantly from one of her daughters to the other, but neither of them appeared very keen on joining her. Elizabeth was not surprised. Rosalind Phillips, lovable as she was on occasion, was tedious to listen to at the best of times, and she had a decided habit of exaggerating everything. By the time they would leave her house, she and their mother would be convinced, that the whole of Netherfield had burnt down and that the old house, despite having burnt down, had been turned into a whorehouse, with Mr Bingley being the pimp and Mr D
arcy the madam of the brothel or something along those lines. There would be naked people running around everywhere doing it in every corner, oh yeah, and let's not forget the horses. One hardly dared to wonder what they were used for...

  'Oh, okay, then go,' she finally agreed when no-one had deigned her with an answer. 'Have you any idea what we might need?'

  How about everything?

  'Yes, I made a list last night,' Elizabeth held up two sheets of paper.

  'You made a list when your boyfriend was there? Mr D'Arcy... - Seriously, I could think of a couple of things I'd rather do with such a man around,' Lydia giggled, making a kissy face.

  'Mr Darcy isn't my boyfriend and anyway, I wrote it after he'd left.'

  'What, you spent the evening with Mr Darcy?' he mother chimed up.

  'Yes, he came by to look for his friend.'

  'Really, you should relax more,' Lydia carried on.

  Yeah, right. When, in between feeding animals, mucking out stables, harvesting crops, milking cows and doing her usual chores around the house?

  But at least Lydia's remark had saved her from further inquiries from her mother. That was something. Though she would not be in the least surprised, should Mrs Phillips ask her in a week or so, how her love-life was going and whether Mr Darcy was good in bed. She really looked forward to it. No, not really. Okay, not at all.

  'Thank you for the advice, Lydia,' Elizabeth remarked testily, taking the car key from Mrs Bennet.

  'Oh, you're welcome.'

  Did her sister really not get that she'd been ironic?

  Well, at least the problem with the parking was solved also. No ticket this time.

  Another, and more pressing dilemma however was, how to keep Kitty and mainly Lydia busy during shopping so they wouldn't whine about wanting this or that. It seemed that every time they stepped into a supermarket they turned into toddlers, tantrum included.

  And promptly Lydia announced, as soon as they had driven off: 'I actually need shower gel, shampoo, lip gloss, deodorant and a sarnie. I haven't had anything to eat all day!'