by Nicky Roth
'Can I take them off now?' Elizabeth asked, rather testily.
'Just once up and down the stairs and then yes, by all means.'
'I never knew you had a cruel streak to you, Jane.'
Grinning Jane only shrugged and then pushed her out of the door. There was no way to defend herself, not while she struggled to keep her balance...
It already was a bad idea just walking in these things, but climbing stairs? She was too young to die! Thank goodness there was a bannister, ha, and a lift. Looking behind her, she saw Jane's challenging glance. At least it didn't appear as if she was about to come with her and yet, she also didn't seem inclined to move away from the door. This meant a little sneakiness was required. She would just go down one storey, two at most and then press the button for the lift.
Peeking up she saw that she was now out of Jane's sight. Good! Okay, the lift was also just one floor above her. Everything went according to plan thus far. She would just have to wait a couple of minutes before stepping out of the house, waving up at Jane and then return same way she'd come, again get out of the lift one storey below Jane's flat, climb the rest of the stairs and she'd have made it. Easy!
With a rattle, the doors of the rickety looking lift slid open to reveal...
'I knew it!' Jane grinned, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
FUCK!
'Now really, are you trusting me so little?'
'Yes, and for obvious reasons, Lizzy. Now, be a good girl and walk down the stairs and then back up.'
'Torturer! Does Charles know you work as a past-time dominatrix?'
'Yes, he loves it when I cuff and whip him,' Jane replied straight-faced.
Oh God, no! Shit, that was an image she needed to get rid of asap. Jane was joking, right? Okay, yes, her sister started to crack up, thank goodness. Still... She really needed to think of something else. Rosings for example and the dance course with Will. - Will, yes that was safe. None of this cuffing and whipping stuff.
No. No! NO! Argh... - Not going there, no thinking about Will, hndcuffs and horsewhips in the same sentence. Bloody hell! Too late.
'See, it wasn't all that bad,' Jane greeted her at the bottom of the stairs.
'It was every bit as horrible as I expected it to be. Worse even.'
'Now, since you've been such a good girl, I have a treat for you.'
'Oh, really?'
'Yes. I'll allow you to take the lift to go back upstairs.'
'Well, thank you!'
As soon as she was inside the flat, Elizabeth pulled the shoes from her feet and flung them in the next best corner and slipped on her Crocs. Much better.
Yes, they were not very sexy, but at least, other than their name suggested, they were perfectly harmless and not out to kill her. Perhaps if she used some glittery spray paint on them and a handful of sparkly rhinestones they would do just fine for the dance course.
Okay, presumably not, but one thing was certain, she would go and get a pair of comfy granny-pumps tomorrow when Jane was at work and that was final! One with an anatomical insole.
Shit, her feet were killing her and they still wanted to paint the wall by the kitchen as soon as Bingley arrived back in London any moment now. Which, of course, meant that they had to clear out the cupboards and take them down, all while cleaning them properly in the process and pep them up with some adhesive foil. A rustic oak finish was not exactly the most cheerful thing for a room the size of a shoe box, but hey, it had come with the flat. Fortunately, since the flat belonged to their aunt and uncle, they had easily gained permission to do whatever they pleased as long as the house was not burnt down or otherwise demolished. That shouldn't be too difficult to avoid.
'Almost four, Charles will be here in a nick,' Jane remarked with a glance at her watch.
Thinking back at him helping around the farm perhaps she had been too optimistic just now... - Okay, that was mean. He was a good guy and perhaps he was more talented with DIY than with herding cows. Everyone had their own skillset and DIY might be Bingley's.
And there was his ring anyway, so let the games begin... - Jane had been spot on with her prediction.
'Hello, my Angel,' he greeted his girlfriend with a kiss and a hug then waved at her: 'Hi, Lizzy!'
'Hello Charles, how are you? How are things going at Netherfield?'
'I am fine, and the works are actually much faster than I anticipated, but then again, Charlotte kicks arse, doesn't she?'
'Yep.'
'See, I told you she was the right person for the job,' Jane interjected.
'And so you did,' Charles Bingley smiled back at her, before pulling her in for another kiss.
Thank goodness she was going to a dance course. After all, Elizabeth didn't want to embarrass her sister on her wedding day, which seemed to be fast approaching... - And she still hadn't thought of a present. Ah, just in case she could always go for one of the classics like dishcloths, towels, bed linens or a nice cake lifter. Or how about a toaster?
'So, what do you want me to do?' the groom to be asked eagerly.
'We could use some help with the furniture, it needs to get moved over to this side and then the kitchen cupboards need to come down so we don't soil them with paint.'
'Sure.'
'And then we need to get the paint...'
Rolling up his shirt sleeves, both Jane and Bingley got cracking with the furniture, while Elizabeth took care of the crockery. They made quite some headway and she took her chance to quickly disappear into the bathroom.
Oh, great, did she see red? Yep, her not-pregnancy was now officially confirmed. Hooray!
She heard Jane call out for her. What had she just said? Okay, never mind, it probably wasn't all that important. She could ask her once she was finished.
Five minutes later...
'Eh, can one of you please let me out of the bathroom? Hello folks, I'm stuck in here...'
However hard she tried to press the door handle, it wouldn't budge. Something was clearly blocking it. Okay, whenever she got a flat of her own, she would make sure that it had frickin' doorknobs!
One more try, just for good measure: 'Helloho...?'
Now seriously? Nothing. Fuck all. They had not gone out, had they?
'Jane? Charles? Hello? Anybody at home except for myself?'
Obviously not. Bloody brilliant! No, they didn't really, did they? Apparently yes.
Yes sure, they had wanted to go and get paint and other stuff with Bingley's car so they could avoid an awkward ride on the bus, but hey, she was there, too. Trapped in the bathroom, because someone had piled a shit load of rubbish in front of the door. - Okay, not rubbish, but the kitchen cabinets in all likeliness, not that it mattered right now.
And since Jane didn't read while sitting on the loo, other than at home there was not even a fucking Cosmopolitan to flip through and her mobile was laying peacefully on the couch table. Of course, where else would it be than firmly out of her reach? And as if to mock her, it started ringing right NOW!
Wow, amazing how quickly one could get bored. So, no magazine, definitely no book, no mobile and just a toilet bowl for company. The prospects were rather bleak. The back of the shampoo bottle she had already read twice. It was a decent mystery thriller, but rather on the short side and none of the main characters had much of a personality.
Aqua was a bit see-through and constantly wet herself, Buxux Chinensis was decidedly too oily for her liking and Caffein suffered from a stress disorder...
She definitely needed to find something else to do. In answer to her prayers, her eyes fell on the Boot's-bag she had dumped in here the previous night. Right, Jane had wanted to show her how to do makeup properly, but since she was trapped here, she could just as well try for herself, couldn't she?
Okay, hair clip first, then washing the face. So far so good, that was the easy part. Now, what next? Foundation would make sense considering its name...
Right, sponge, brush or fingertips? Sponge sounded fun an
d it had a nice colour. Sponge it was. So, what next? Concealer? Well, why not? Why not conceal the fucking expensive foundation underneath some equally pricey concealer?
'Just remember youtube... It's supposed to be a piece of cake. Even beauty gurus manage despite their obvious lack of common sense...' Elizabeth muttered to herself.
So far, she looked quite good. By the way, did one really need to contour? Nah!
Eyebrows? - Check!
Eyeliner? - Check!
Mascara? - Check!
Blush? - Che... Oops, that was perhaps a bit much.
Right, that look was ruined now. Okay, where was the flannel? Ah, there. And again.
After her sixth attempt, Elizabeth gave up. How was one to figure out the right amount of everything? Presently she looked like a clown. And there was still no sign of Jane and Charles.
Hey, actually, why not finish what she'd started? Okay, all she needed to do was draw a line from each corner of her eyebrows down to her cheeks and then make a flourish to close the two lines at the bottom. Hm, that didn't look half bad, oddly enough. But somehow the foundation looked wrong with a clown-face. She didn't have white, but the green concealer might work. Yep, it did make her look wonderfully odd. - Right, now the gob. All she needed to do there was make wings at the corners of her mouth and slightly overdraw her lips. Jane would be proud of her. Yes, okay, she was taking the mickey, but when there was no other person to laugh at, what else was there to do but laugh at oneself? He-he, she did look ridiculous. Now blush. Lots of it. Perfect!
Shit, where were Jane and Bingley? It couldn't take that long, to get some paint, could it? What the heck kept them?
No, no thinking about handcuffs, kinky boots and whips. And no thinking about Will at the moment, not while trying not to think of handcuffs, kinky boots and whips at any rate.
Okay, she perhaps should do something with her hair. Also not a real challenge considering that she had a knack for silly looking hairstyles. And thank goodness, she had just pushed the last hairpin into her messy up-do, when she heard voices and then a door being pushed open. At fucking last!
'Lizzy?' she heard Jane ask tentatively into the room.
'Perhaps she's gone out to catch some fresh air,' Bingley suggested before Elizabeth could say anything, his voice sounding somewhat hopeful.
Yes, she got it, new love and all...
'No, she's not!' Elizabeth interjected before she had to listen to something she'd rather not listened to. 'You locked me in the bloody bathroom, you twats!'
'Oh no! Have you been in there the whole time?'
'No, why? I went for a walk, did some shopping, went out for dinner... - Of course I was in here the whole bloody time!'
From the other side, she could hear shuffling and then suddenly the door was flung open.
'Lizzy?! What the...?'
'I got bored,' Elizabeth shrugged.
Jane tried to say something, but as tears were streaming down her face and she clung to her boyfriend in hysterical laughter, all that came out of her mouth was indiscernible but was probably along the lines of: 'I can see that!'
It took a full five minutes for Jane to recover, and still grinning like a Cheshire cat she, at last, could form a full sentence: 'Shit, Lizzy, you look like Frankenstein's monster dressed up for Halloween.'
'Well, that was the look I was going for. See, I don't need any help with my make-up. Now I just need to pop on my little black dress and wear those killer high-heels you've been torturing me with all day, and I am ready for a night out.'
'Well,' Charles grinned, looking up from stirring the paint so they could get crackin', 'I am afraid for that your makeup might be a bit subtle. Nothing under a layer of half an inch of paint will do for any of the clubs around London.'
'Okay, perhaps I do need help with my makeup then ater all then.'
'Most certainly,' Jane laughed. 'And do you know what I need right now aside from a glass of wine? A picture of you like this.'
'Cheers!'
Chapter 33:
Surprise!
'Lizzy, can you please hold the other end of the rail?' Jane presently asked her while trying to thread it through the loops of the curtain.
'Sure,' Elizabeth replied, putting aside the drill and pushing her hair out of her eyes.
Just two more shelves, the curtains, and fluffing up the cushions and the room was done. At last!
Time had flown by. By the way, why was it that whenever one started a quick project to re-decorate it took about five times as long as one thought it would? After all, they had done nothing but paint the walls, pep up the kitchen cabinets, repainted an old wardrobe to replace the cheap one that had come with the flat, naturally thrown the old one out, de-cluttered the room, put up some shelves, put new covers on the old chairs Jane had brought from Longbourn where they had been sitting in the attic literally for ages.
Then they had crafted a new screen for the lamp using old wine bottles a glue gun and some wire, only to find that it was too dark and bulky besides for the small room. Coincidentally they then had found an electric fireplace in the junk-shop around the corner, build a mantelpiece for it, hung up some pictures, exchanged the door handles with doorknobs, then decided that the doors would look nicer if they were painted white and had a moulding, which was attached easily enough with a nailgun their uncle had lent them. After that, they had made another attempt to make a new lampshade, this time around with more success using balloons, fast-drying glue and rope; had put up some hooks and a railing atop the kitchen work-surface, ruined the tiled splash back in the process, so they had bought a thin wooden board and covered it in some more adhesive foil that had a mirror surface, and used the rest of the board, the spare moulding from the doors and a scrap of blackboard film from another project Jane had done a while ago, to make a memo-board. In short, up-cycling at its finest...
Last but not least they had replaced the old curtain-rail (actually a disused and painted broom handle) with a new one, only to find that the old curtains didn't fit over it, so Jane had made new ones. And only yesterday, they had decided, that the old couch table needed something to be done with as well. It was, what Elizabeth had been working on during the whole of the morning while Jane had been at work.
So, not all that much, was it?
At least Jane's bed-couch was new and in a state that nothing needed to be done with it as was the tiny dining table. Phew!
'Eh, Lizzy, I think you should get ready, Darcy will be here soon...' Jane suddenly remarked and had Elizabeth startle.
Shit, she had seriously lost track of time.
After an almost sleepless night filled with anticipation, Elizabeth had been wound up like a spring and thankfully there had been enough finishing touches to take care of to have her distracted, but oh dear, she still needed to pack and shower and change... - And Darcy had said he would be here around two. It was half-past one now. Great!
Not much time to take a shower, get the dust out of her hair and the paint out from underneath her fingernails, get dressed and at least half-way decently groomed. But apparently, enough time to lose one's head and get one's knickers in a twist...
'I'm almost done here and then go and get us something to eat, okay?'
Elizabeth nodded in reply.
She had just stripped her dirty clothes stuffing them into a bag so she could wash them as soon as she was back at Longbourn, trudged into the bathroom and was about to step into the shower when there was a ring at the door.
'Please, please, please let it be the neighbour to ask for some sugar or something along those lines...' Lizzy chanted in her head.
And why the heck did the water need twice as long to get warm as it normally did? It was this thing with Jane's shower, it worked perfectly fine, but unless one was tempted to freeze to death, one better had the water run for a minute or two to give it a chance to warm up. Usually it was just the amount of time one needed to step out of one's clothes, but apparently not today. The water stay
ed cold. If it were any colder, it would snow.
Listening tentatively at the bathroom door, for the first time appreciating the thinness of the walls, it was clear, that it was not a neighbour who'd rung the bell. Will had arrived half an hour early. Argh!
And the water was still cold after five bloody minutes of running and the tap was on scalding. Okay, she had to try. Ice swimming was a thing, right? Why not ice showering? Nope, this was not a sport she'd try out again any time soon. At least she was wide awake. And shivering. And her clothes were laying on the dresser right next to her bag...
'Jane?'
'Jane's gone to get us a pizza. Are you okay?' she heard Will's voice from the other side.
Great! She had so looked forward to hearing his voice, but right now? Not a good timing.
'Yes, absolutely dandy, Will. Hi, by the way. Sorry to keep you waiting, I was just taking a shower and...'
“… and I am trapped stark naked in the bathroom with a towel the size of a postcard...” Elizabeth finished in her head.
'Are you sure you're alright? You sound... - stressed.'
“I am stressed!” Elizabeth thought o herself, but instead answered: 'No, I'm fine, just... - Ouch! Bloody hell! FUCK! That hurts...'
Okay, it was most certainly not very lady-like to swear like a drayman, but where the heck did that bloody drawing pin come from all of a sudden? And it had wedged itself firmly into her heel. Swell!
Before she could react the door was flung open.
'Lizzy? Oh...'
Darcy had burst into the room, panic written all over his face and then suddenly his jaw dropped. Simultaneously with her towel. Not that it had covered much, to begin with.
Yes, “oh!” sums it up perfectly.
'Wh... - what happened?' he stammered, fixing his gaze at a point over her shoulder.
'I stepped into a drawing pin. I think I will live.'
'I am glad to hear it.'
'So, I think I will get dressed then, shall I?'