by Nicky Roth
'What happened to your lunch pack?'
'Bringing a lunch pack to school is so not cool, Lizzy. No-one does so anymore, you know?'
Of course, it would be too sensible to take something to eat along...
'And breakfast?'
'I overslept,' her sister shrugged.
Of course, how stupid of her. It was Monday. Last time Lydia had managed to get up on time on a Monday was in sixth grade.
'And you, Kitty?'
'Oh, I was on time.'
'And you didn't think of waking your sister?'
'I did wake her up. But I only realised that she was still sleeping when I came out of the bathroom.'
Without Lydia banging on the door, it was actually rather surprising that Kitty hadn't been running late as well. Damn, how did she manage to curl her hair at half past seven in the morning? Elizabeth couldn't possibly say, though mainly because at that time she was already on her way over to the farm.
Taking the first exit off the roundabout, Elizabeth pulled up their van in the car park and turned it off.
'Bloody hell, why do you park so far from the entrance? Now we have to walk all this way.'
It was what, fifty yards? At most! How fucking lazy could one be? Okay, stupid question, it was Lydia after all...
There are but three things in this world that have no limit: Human stupidity, space and Lydia's laziness[i] - and truth be told, she was not quite so sure about space.
'Oh, look, there is Maria!' Kitty cried out, waving at her friend.
Maria Lucas was Charlotte's younger sister. A quiet girl, but just as empty-headed as Kitty and Lydia, though not quite as lazy and usually better behaved. Emphasis on usually. The exception was when she was with her two friends.
'Come, we must tell her what just happened,' Lydia giggled, ignoring Jane's pained look, while literally dragging Kitty out of the van.
'What about your sandwich?' Elizabeth tried to hold them back, but neither her younger sisters listened anymore.
'Bloody fantastic! Now the whole town will know, young and old. How are you holding up, Jane? You've been awfully silent since we left Netherfield.'
'What is there to say? Mum is determined to make the most of what we've just witnessed. At least gossip wise. And same with Kitty and Lydia. I can't even fault them for it. It's not as if there is much going on around Meryton, is there?'
'Listen, Jane, I think, no, I am convinced, that all of this is nothing but a horrible misunderstanding.'
'Honestly, Lizzy, I don't quite know what to think. I do hope so, and truth be told, I do have trouble thinking Charles would voluntarily let such people into his house. But I also wonder why Charles didn't say anything. He didn't say much when we stood together either, and mainly looked the other way.'
'Embarrassed much, I would say. Come, Charles Bingley is such an open person, if he were not absolutely mortified by this and had rented Netherfield out to them knowing what these people do for a living, he would have said something, don't you think? So, even his saying nothing rather fits with him being innocent in this matter. Did you see his face when we arrived?'
Jane nodded, and for a moment her face lit up with a small smile before turning serious again: 'Lizzy, did Mr Darcy tell you anything last night? Was that the reason you tried to keep us away from Netherfield?'
'Nope, I hadn't had the foggiest. But I had my suspicions from the moment Lydia mentioned Caroline Bingley had bought tons of lube. It was kind of a dead giveaway.'
Caroline! Of bloody cause...- It all fit together perfectly all of a sudden.
'What do you say, Jane, we try and talk to them later this evening when the film-crew is gone for the day? As said, I'm dead sure Mr Bingley is as innocent in this as a newborn baby.'
'That, little sister, is actually a good idea. Let's do that. Talking things over it usually the best one can do. It's certainly better than being upset about nothing,' Jane smiled bravely.
'Exactly. And now let us make haste before Kitty and Lydia return from feeding Maria with gossip. You take one page of the list and I'll take the other and we make a run for it?'
'Now you're being silly. Do we really need this much stuff?'
'Yep. I almost had to eat broccoli last night, had Mr Darcy not saved me from a fate worse than death. So? One, two, three – GO!'
Laughing both made their way towards the shopping trolleys, and then, taking one each, dashed into the supermarket.
Bread, sugar, curry powder, cheese, sweet pickle, crisps, flour, mayonnaise... Milk? She had not really written down milk, had she? Bloody hell, she must have been tired. But it had gotten late by the time she had gotten to it. Mr Darcy had only left when Jane and Bingley had arrived from their evening out and that was well past eleven.
'LIZZY? JANE?'
Lydia. Of course!
If at one point in the future, and truth be told with her grades, that was not wholly unlikely, she had trouble in finding a job, she could always apply as a human burglar alarm. Or alternatively become a politician. She was loud, spoke with determination, never anything of any sense and she liked to keep things vague. On the downside, she was actually painfully honest at times. Okay, not a good idea. So, politician was out of the question. Though, thinking about it, she did on occasion make false promises. It was a step in the right direction, one could say.
'Lydia, please, can't you just walk down the aisles and check where we are like every normal person instead of screaming the whole place down?'
'I wasn't all that loud.'
'You were. A plane during take-off is less noisy. Where's Kitty?'
'Gone to the loo with Maria. Hell, Maria was gawking at us when we told her about our visit to Netherfield... - But I have to say, Josh is actually cute. And at least one can be sure that he knows what to do with his Johnny. And it was actually quite big. I wonder how it looks when he's excited.'
TMFI! But, of course, they just had to relay every sordid little detail.
Lydia looked completely unconcerned, and instead reached into the shelf to add a tub of egg-mayo sandwich-filler to the cart.
'You are not serious, right?'
'What?'
'We've got eggs at home, remember? These oval thingies the chickens keep on laying?'
'Yeah, but this is ready made. All you need to do is cook some bacon and you can have a nice egg-mayo-bacon sandwich.'
'And what's so difficult with boiling eggs? Especially when you have to cook the bacon anyway?'
'It's just more convenient, Lizzy. Gods you're so old-fashioned at times! Can we take some of these apples?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'Same reason as the eggs? We've got them bloody at home, Lydia.'
'But they don't look as nice.'
This was ridiculous. But sure, why not buy South African apples when one had an orchard at home with fruit so fresh that it actually tasted like something other than water?
'Oh, and I just dash off quickly and get my necessities. Where will I find you?'
'Not at all, I'm going into hiding.'
'Why?'
'I shot the sheriff.'
'Very funny. Did you have a clown for break...'
'That joke is old, Lydia.'
'Oh, but it wasn't so old when you said it to a certain someone last night, was it?'
'That was something completely different. Go and get your stuff and let's be gone so we can pick up mum again.'
Ten minutes later, Jane, Kitty and herself were standing near the tills and waited for Lydia, but as yet, she was nowhere to be seen - nor heard. Not a good sign. No good at all. From the time her youngest sister had been little, as long as she was heard it wasn't so bad, but unless she was actually sleeping, once she fell silent one knew serious trouble was brewing.
'I'll go and look for her quickly,' Elizabeth sighed after almost five more minutes of waiting.
There was a reason why she had opted against becoming a teacher. Kids were all nice and well, but to
motivate them or make them do what they were supposed to was a pain in the arse.
'Okay, then I go and pay for my half already and then come back to give you a hand with bagging your stuff. Come, Kitty,' Jane offered.
Good plan, actually.
Okay, Lydia must be somewhere. The cosmetics section, however, had been oddly devoid of Lydia. Had she gotten lost looking for them? Surely, Tesco's wasn't that big. Not the one in Meryton at any rate.
Ah, there she was, with a shopping trolley all of her own packed to the brink. And all within a quarter of an hour. Wow! Perhaps she wasn't so lazy after all. At least not when it came to fulfilling her own wishes and desires.
'Lydia, what the heck is all this stuff? You said necessities! In my world that is something you really need, not all the random stuff you want as you pass it in the shop. You've got what? A whole makeup kit, perfume, oh, and I know for a fact that this brand of shampoo costs over twenty Pounds each! And why the heck would you need three bloody bottles of it?'
'They are different ones. I want to try them out, see which one's best for my hair type.'
'You can forget about it unless you pay for them yourself.'
'Oh, but I've only five Pounds left for this month, Lizzy. Please!'
Fuck puppy face, at the moment she dearly longed to kick this one's bottom.
'NO! And you can put that makeup and the perfume back as well. As said, necessities not luxuries. Bloody hell, I thought you would go and get tampons. But okay, euphemisms aren't exactly your thing, are they?'
'But they are necessary for me to look good, I mean, I can't go out without makeup, I would look horribly unkempt. I don't want to run around like you.'
'Well, cheers. Do you really think that that'll now convince me to buy all this rubbish? Forget it!'
'I could pay you back...' Lydia trailed off.
Hello political career here comes Lydia Bennet and I'm a natural after all.
'How about saving your money and then go and get it, when you can actually afford it? Or find a job?'
'But that will take me forever, and as for working, I've got so little time to myself as it is.'
'Correct, it would take you forever. Especially with the rate, you're spending your pocket money left right and centre. Though I don't actually agree with you having little time, but that's another matter.'
'Well, you've got it easy, you've got dad's credit card.'
'True. And do you know why that is? Because he can trust me not to spend more than is in our bloody account and only get those things we need.'
'It's unfair.'
'No one said life's fair. So, back with that stuff and off we go.'
'You sound like a kindergarten teacher.'
'Good, seeing that you behave like a petulant kindergarten child, so it's befitting, don't you agree?'
'I'll tell mum.'
'You're not making things any better or convince me that you are any older than four, at most.'
In the end, Lydia just left her trolley standing in the middle of the market. Of course. She never tidied her stuff away at home, why would she start here of all places?
Ten minutes later...
'Lizzy, what are euphemisms?' Lydia inquired all of a sudden.
Unfortunately, it was not a good idea to bury one's face in one's hands while driving and to slam down one's head repeatedly against the steering wheel in sheer exasperation wasn't either. What if someone got irritated by all the honking?
Chapter 12:
Idiot that I am
'Ah, there are the masters of porn!' someone shouted as they entered the pub for a pint.
'Need a ciggy after all the sex you've had?'
'Na, they only rent out the house to them, they don't shag'em themselves. Must be frustrating to watch all the others getting it on and you just have to stand by, what Mr Bingley? How's your wrist?'
Laughter erupted at that and some more speculation followed, though the men quickly just kept it amongst themselves.
Of course, it was always more interesting to speculate without the danger of having to deal with facts or learning the truth even...
Neither he nor Bingley said anything when they went over to the bar to get their beer and then sat down in the far corner.
'Well, it could have been worse, I suppose,' Bingley sighed, though his expression clearly showed that in his opinion this had been pretty much a worst-case scenario.
Darcy could only agree. This was as bad it could get, surely. He felt incredibly wretched. It was not just the bawdy comments that now followed them wherever they went, it was more the question of how would he ever live down Elizabeth Bennet's inquisitive glance when she'd left Netherfield that afternoon.
But the consequences, of course, could turn out to be more serious than that. Not only had Bingley barely established himself here, no, already his friend's reputation had gone down the drain. Not a good thing when one was new to an area and intended to do business there. And all thanks to Caroline!
Why, oh why, could not all women be like Elizabeth Bennet? Kind, caring, witty, intelligent, pretty, practical...- She had reacted quickly and with that presumably helped to avoid the whole stables going up in smoke.
No, not that he really thought her actions to be very sensible. Running into a burning building never was. And yet, he was thankful to her. Actually, he would have liked to thank her, but by the time Bingley had informed him of what she had done she and her family had gone. Perhaps that was for the better. He was not sure how he could have faced her after his pathetic attempt at explaining the situation. If he was not mistaken, he had made matters much worse with it instead of helping his friend.
'You know, mate, I've tried to get rid of Monty and his crew after the fire-incident, but unfortunately the actual contract has pretty much everything covered,' Bingley sighed again, running his hands through his hair and making it look fashionably dishevelled without intending to.
Great! Another hope destroyed...
As horrible as Monty Howard seemed to be in organising his people, as good he apparently was with writing contracts. Though, of course, there were lawyers one could hire, and he had obviously found a very good one.
They had also quickly discovered that all they needed to do was put the fuse back in to have electricity and with that, the filming had carried on merrily.
Getting up to get both of them another pint, Darcy was sure to hear more snickers everywhere around him. But what had he expected? In a town as small as Meryton news of this kind travelled fast and were long-lived and while there was nothing new to talk about, people would make the most of what they had at hand. Lambton was no different.
Right at this point, it would have been much more comfortable if they had been approached by the one or other of the customers at the inn and been made fun of openly again, but no-one dared do it and instead they now continued to laugh behind their backs. Well, it came with being new to the area. Still, not a good feeling at all.
How on earth had he come to this point in his life? A week ago everything had been nice and well, everything ordered and running perfectly smoothly. And now?
He and his best friend had been made a laughing stock, he was in danger of turning into a drunkard if he carried on like this and on top of that he was slowly but surely falling in love.
Never in his life had he been as bewitched by any woman as he was with Elizabeth Bennet and he had only known her for a couple of days, so that was quite scary. And the more he knew of her, the more he felt his heart slip away from him. With the bravery she'd shown today, how could it be otherwise?
Okay, at first he had been angry with her for putting herself in danger, but then he had felt immensely proud. God, what a woman! How could he not love her?
There was just one thing he could not make out, and that was why she had been laughing. Had she been laughing at him or the situation? He hoped it was the latter, for, later on, she had looked at him with something that might have been compassion and under
standing. Could she possibly know that he and Bingley had nothing to do with that blasted contract?
Once more he was acutely aware of his own social awkwardness. For Bingley it was easy. He was an extrovert, while he was definitely not. At the moment his friend might be fairly cast down thinking that Jane Bennet would surely never speak to him again after the afternoons débâcle, but what Darcy had seen had been a young woman willing to forgive his friend with all her heart, ready to give him a second chance. Truth be told, he envied Bingley for that.
As if his thoughts had suddenly conjured up the two women of whom he had been thinking, Jane Bennet and her sister stepped into the pub looking around themselves as if they were looking for someone, and when they spotted them sitting in the corner it was clear whom they had been looking for. - Bingley.
Well, they had said they'd come over for a chat, and when he and Bingley had left for the pub, his friend had sent Jane a text. And here they were now.
While Elizabeth walked over to the bar and soon got involved in a conversation with an annoyingly good-looking man, Jane immediately came over to them.
'Hi, Charles,' Jane smiled tentatively but sat down at their table nonetheless. 'As we've said, we thought we'd drop by for a chat. You seemed fairly disturbed earlier on.'
'I was, admittedly. I had somehow hoped to keep my dark secret from you,' Bingley smiled in a way that was bound to make any woman melt in all its bloody darn innocence.
Heck, he had really perfected this puppy-look. Lydia Bennet, in comparison, was still in desperate need of practice. Not that Bingley used it purposely to his advantage, it was just how he was, a little puppy eager to please and be loved.
'Well, perhaps it would have been better, had you told me.'
'Perhaps. But I didn't know how. I only found out about it when I came home from the Harvest Ball, myself. I accidentally signed this contract amongst a stack of others and didn't really pay attention. You must think me a right twat.'
One thing Darcy had to say, his friend had integrity. Even towards someone as undeserving as his sister.