by Nicky Roth
'Eh, come again?'
'I said, I need your help with the dumbwaiter right now, or better even five minutes ago because my aunt is stuck in there. I know it is your day off, but...'
There was some muffled snorting on the other end of the line before his mechanic answered: 'Sorry, but I'm in London with the Missus. We've been invited by her sister... - Truth be told not what I consider a nice evening, especially not since that scoundrel of a son of hers is there as well, but I am about four hours away. Perhaps Bob could help, but I'm still training him, so I think it might be better to call 999.'
Darcy did just that. The last thing he needed was the dumbwaiter being irreparably damaged and yes, Bob was a nice lad and willing to learn, but … - Yeah, well, he was not the brightest bulb in the box. Though at this point he started to doubt his own mental abilities.
By the way, where the heck was Elizabeth? He could really use a hug right now.
Okay, the boys from the fire brigade were fast, he had to give them that. But then again, Lambton was not Pontypandy where a population of under twenty people kept the fire station more than sufficiently busy, so they presumably had little else to do.
Well, it was a bit awkward to explain that his aunt was trapped in the dumbwaiter, but then again, it was nothing in comparison to when they actually pulled her out there, still wrapped in her sheet, wriggling and mumbling while still all neatly tied up.
Hm, it was an easy assumption to make that Lizzy was good at wrapping Christmas presents...
'It is not how it looks, guys,' he began, immediately regretting having said anything.
Sentences with “it is not how it looks” were never a good idea. Because more often than not it was either exactly how it looked or even worse.
While he pushed Lady Catherine towards the nearest bathroom, the whole troupe stared at him in sheer bafflement, unmoving and unblinking like a curious herd of cows.
Okay, he had to try again: 'It is just that my aunt managed to cover herself in paint, face and all...'
In an attempt to prove his point he at last loosened the rope and pulled off the sheet only for his aunt to immediately start screeching: 'Take that bloody spider away from me and then put the sheet back on before I soil that lovely carpet.!'
Eh, yes, help occasionally came from the most unexpected of sources, and oddly enough, the paint was still reasonably wet and dripping. Point taken.
'Oh, and I need to make an appointment at the hairdresser's tomorrow, I guess my perm is ruined,' Aunt Catherine rambled on, her voice once more slightly muffled by the cloth covering her visage.
Ha, at least that meant she would be out of the way for most of the day tomorrow. So far so good. How many hairdresser's appointments could one squeeze into one week?
With shaking heads and the one or other chuckle the firemen finally got lost while at long last his aunt was safely ensconced in his bathroom. Yes, it had to be his bathroom that was closest to the bloody dumbwaiter, whose else? A moment later he heard the shower being turned on.
Really, if this happened in a comedy, he would think it too over the top. Funny, but as said, over the top. But heck, this was real life.
Had his existence always been that much of a mess? Not that he could remember. Everything had been rather boring really with the occasional interruption in the form of Charles or Fitz. But since he got engaged... Well, never mind.
Okay, but that aside, where the hell was Elizabeth and her mother?
Chapter 51:
Walk three miles?!
'Why are you not starting the car?' Mrs Bennet inquired making herself comfortable in her soon to be son in law's Landrover.
'Because I haven't got the keys, Mama.'
Shit, Darcy always kept them in the ignition, at least when he was on Pemberley's grounds, it was Sod's law that today they were not. The car had been unlocked, sure enough, but the keys were not there. Of bloody course!
'What do you mean?'
'That I can't start the car, obviously.'
Pulling out her mobile, Elizabeth tried to call, but no-one answered.
'And now?'
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and glanced in the direction in which Darcy had driven away. Well, the obvious was to walk back. Duh! It was not as if it was all that far. Okay, close to three miles, but hey.
'We'll walk, Mum.'
'Walk?'
Bloody hell, her mother made it sound as if they were going to go on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostella if not further.
'You want me to walk all the way to Pemberley?'
Eh, yes? Half of it wouldn't make much sense, would it?
'On our own two feet?'
Well, her mother could try and walk on her hands if she fancied it that way, but she herself actually preferred it the classical way. Feet, legs one in front of the other until the destination was reached.
'Mum, it is barely three miles. That's the distance between Longbourn and Netherfield...'
Okay, judging by the expression on her mother's face, she shouldn't have said that.
'What? Three miles in all that dirt? We will not be fit to be seen!'
Okay, it had been raining quite a bit over the last week and the paths were muddy, sure, but not fit to be seen? In her own home? Shit, in two weeks she would be Mrs Darcy. Well no, not shit but hooray! And it was not as if Will hadn't seen her in dirty work clothes before.
'If it is any consolation, we can stop by the stables and hose ourselves down.'
'Don't be silly, we'll be soaked if we do that!'
Oh, really?
'Then what do you suggest, Mum?'
'Well, since we are here we could perhaps just carry on painting the walls. Though I still think that you should consider putting up a border. You know, it was really nice looking. Purple and pink with a few flecks of gold.'
Okay, she would leave it at that for the moment. What point was there arguing? But actually, her mother's suggestion of carrying on the work was not a bad one at all. After all, Will and she had hoped to finish the walls today and seriously, Elizabeth doubted that they would be of any use up at the house. And eventually, Will must figure out that he had the keys in his pocket, right? Well, hopefully...
Anyway, pushing the door back open they re-entered the ecclesiastical building and began their task.
Thank goodness, they still had the white plastic overalls lying around they had put over their clothes when sanding down the benches. Wood-dust was at least as itchy as glitter, and not any less tricky to get off. Okay, perhaps it was a little easier, but not much.
Pushing Will's ladder back up against the wall, Elizabeth ascended it, while her mother climbed up the other, less rickety model Elizabeth herself had been using.
Yep, no-one expected as much, but on occasion, her mother could be quite practical if she chose to, baffling the people left right and centre with her actual skill. Fanny Bennet was by no means a woman who didn't know how to use a paintbrush or how to handle a drill, at least not if she put her mind to it, which admittedly wasn't all that often. Still, thinking about it, she was presumably the only person on this planet who didn't need any instructions to put together IKEA furniture. Then again, both were equally bound to fall apart at any given moment as long as they were not fully assembled and on top of that often missing a screw. Though actually, it was more unsettling if there was an extra screw where no-one knew where it belonged...
'Thinking about it, perhaps green and yellow would look nice as well. What do you say, Lizzy?'
What the heck was her mother talking about? Flowers, colours for dresses, the glazing of the wedding cake?
'And I dare say even that cross might look alright with a bit of white paint and a couple of artificial flowers instead of that haggard looking figure they strapped to it. They could at least have attempted to make him look less suffering, it would make it look a lot more cheerful.'
'Mum, this haggard looking figure is Jesus and he died for us on the cross to take away ou
r sins he has every right to look as if he is suffering, because he is.'
'Yes, yes, I know. But it still isn't very tasteful, is it? I always wondered why they could not put up something more cheerful like Baby-Jesus in his manger or him preaching to the children.'
Right, where even to begin? At least her mother's arguments were not quite as nonsensical as she had feared at first, that was something. Still...
'He will stay. It's his home, after all,' Elizabeth at least replied.
'I thought the church was Fitzwilliam's...'
Why, oh why could they not just paint in silence?
'So, I'll go to Homebase tomorrow and get that border then. The green one I mean,' Mrs Bennet continued, changing the subject while climbing down to move the ladder a little further along the wall.
There was no point replying so Elizabeth didn't.
Just about three more meters to go and they were finished. Where the heck was Will? Surely he must have realised by now that she had not followed him home.
'What colour are you painting the benches?' her mother interrupted her musings once again.
'We'll just varnish them, nothing more.'
'Perhaps I can find a pretty colour that goes with the border...'
What?! Not again! She really had hoped that with not saying anything, the subject would be over and hopefully forgotten, but obviously she had been wrong.
'There will be NO border, Mama!'
'But the walls do look dreadfully plain...'
Leaning back a little, and making Elizabeth almost fear that her mother would fall over, Mrs Bennet took a critical glance at the wall, then nodded to herself and began painting again. Right, that now was truly unsettling. As ridiculous her mother's ideas were and how tedious it was listening to them, it was the times when she didn't share them when it got downright dangerous. Not knowing what her mother was up to was never a good thing. The baby-purchases and the tractor-incident were sufficient proof of that, not to mention all the people she had invited without Will and her knowledge. By the way, she should ask her mother at one point whom she had told to come, but most certainly not while she herself was standing on a ladder. That could be disastrous. Heights and nervous break-downs didn't go well together, after all. And she had every reason to fear the worst.
'How do you intend to get the cobwebs from the beams, Lizzy?'
'Either a hoover or a duster. Why?'
'Oh, I just cleaned the garden shed and the leaf blower really worked a treat. All you have to do is blow the dust off the rafters and then you can easily wipe everything clean and sweep it together. It's also great for places that are just that little bit too high up to reach.'
Okay, that was actually sound advice for once. It was sometimes easy to forget that while being excessively silly, her mother was also the person who looked after their garden at home, who cleaned most of the house, who cooked and baked and made preserves, hung up the pictures and so forth.
Suddenly Elizabeth felt slightly ashamed of herself. But heck, her mother didn't make it easy to take her seriously, did she?
That aside, where the fuck was Will? It had been two hours now and it was slowly but surely beginning to get dark and there was still no sign of him anywhere. Hello? Hopefully, nothing had happened on the way and his aunt was alright. At one point she had almost been sure to have heard some sirens some way in the distance...
Please, let everything be alright! What if there had been an accident? Nope, better not think about that. All would be well eventually and it was not all that late yet.
Half an hour later and all the walls were finally a pristine white. Checking the time on her mobile, Elizabeth decided to call Will again. Yep, no surprise there, the phone was ringing right next to her. It explained a lot. For example why he had neither called back nor answered earlier on. So much for technology. Well, perhaps she could reach Georgiana... - Nope, only the mailbox after the fifth ring. Mrs Reynolds' number she hadn't yet saved on her phone, the Younge's she knew where in London, and since it had proven to be more complicated than simply using a mobile, Will had, with the exception of the hotel, of course, the telephone system uninstalled a couple of years back. What option was left? Perhaps she should send him a postcard. Or was there still a telegram service? Okay, even if there was, she didn't know the number, so there was no point wondering.
So, walking was definitely in order, it seemed. Great, it had started to rain again and dusk had set in, which with them being in the middle of the woods meant that it was near pitch dark already. Shit!
It wouldn't be so bad if she had not only walked this path once and if Darcy and she had not taken a detour then... - Okay, they could make it. The park was large, but not all that large, right?
Forty minutes later and Elizabeth had no idea if she was even still on Pemberley's grounds. Swell!
'Are we there yet?' her mother asked for what seemed like the millionth time.
'No.'
'Is it still far?'
Fuck, was it?
'Eh, no.'
Okay, it was a shot in the dark, literally, but admitting the truth would only result in a panic. Not that she herself didn't feel slightly panicky by now. On top of that, her mother seemed to think this to be the perfect moment to confess that she really needed to take a wee. Right, not that much of a problem in a forest with plenty of trees to squat behind without needing to fear an audience.
It did, however, take a little bit of persuasion until her mother finally thought it safe to go in the great wide open, choosing to dive through the dense hedge to their left, obviously stepping into a puddle, judging by the splash and the subsequent cursing and a couple of minutes and a tinkle later...
'Lizzy, I'm stuck in the mud!'
Great! Absolutely perfect!
The scene unfolding before her, though slightly blurred by
the darkness was a novel one. There her mother stood with only her knickers up again, while her trousers seemed to have gotten trapped underneath her feet. Fuck, how was that even possible? Okay, she didn't really want to know, if she was honest. But did she imagine it, or was that the road right behind them? Nope, no imagination, it was and there was a car coming. Perfect timing one could say, though her mother would probably disagree. But seriously, she was knackered, hungry and it was getting increasingly colder.
Stepping up to the road, though at the same time taking care that she would not get into the car's way should the driver overlook her, Elizabeth waved frantically to stop the vehicle. The old Morris Minor slowed down and stopped. Thank Heavens, it did and even more that it was a well-known figure who climbed out of it.
'Lizzy? Oh, thank goodness. Where the heck have you been?' Will asked, his voice full of relief.
'At the church. You took the keys.'
For a moment, Will stared at her thoroughly perplexed before reaching into his pocket to indeed produce the keys to his own car.
'Oh, and while you took your keys, you left your mobile as a substitute.'
'Yep, I figured that one out eventually. Shit, you had me scared when you didn't pitch up. I was close to calling the police. Not that I hadn't had my share of their company today already.'
Oh?
'Why did you not come down to the church?'
'Well, that is where I am coming from just now. Sorry, it took me so long, but first, there was a little incident with the dumbwaiter and I had to call the fire brigade and then the police pitched up on my doorstep because one of the three bloody hotel guests rambling around the park had seen me carrying what looked like a dead body. And there I had been thinking that I had gotten away unseen when I came across a police car earlier on. It did take some time to clear things up, or otherwise, I would have been down a lot sooner.'
Oh!
'Never mind, Will. It sounds like you had your hands full. And we are actually fine, though admittedly we were a bit lost... - How is your aunt?'
'Taking another shower after demonstrating to the police how she was wr
apped up, bless her. It was not one of her best ideas to actually use the sheet still covered in paint, but hey, at least it did wash off eventually, though her perm is ruined. So, let's go. Where is your mum?'
He glanced around though with the headlights on, Mrs Bennet was well hidden in the shadows.
'Eh, well, she is right next to that bush, stuck in the mud...' Elizabeth pointed in the respective direction.
If Darcy, upon helping her mother out of her predicament was wondering how it had come to this, he didn't show it, and as for her mother, she was mortified enough to keep her gob shut. Good.
Elizabeth had not realised it before, but seriously, she was close to fainting. Not literally, of course, but she was tired to the bone. Why the heck was she so knackered every single evening of late? It was not as if she wasn't used to hard physical labour. Well, never mind. And anyway, two seconds after climbing into the car she had passed out.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz........
Chapter 52:
Isn't that cute?
Okay, his aunt was safely at the hairdresser's, Mrs Bennet had gone with her, Georgiana was at school and Lizzy and he were once more busy down at the chapel, varnishing the benches. Seriously, autumn was the perfect time for getting married at least for a man like him. Not much to do around the fields and stables, not much to do at the hotel, the holiday homes were all closed up, in short, it was as quiet as it could possibly get around Pemberley. Autumn had always been his favourite time of year anyway. Not that he didn't like the other seasons as well, but hey, each their own, right?
Glancing over at Elizabeth he could not help smiling. She did look wonderfully dishevelled and highly concentrated all the while humming a cheerful tune painting the bench before her. Well, she did have a good singing voice. They really should sing together more often, though preferably not during a bloody karaoke-competition.
'Is something the matter, Will?' she asked eventually when he had been unable to take his eyes off of her for several minutes, daydreaming.