Jane, Actually

by Jennifer Petkus

  Where it all suddenly clicked into place was the back and forth with two couples abreast that was so emblematic of the dance. Slowly a smile formed on his face and he stopped looking down at his feet.

  “Thank God he’s lost that look of deadly earnest,” Albert remarked.

  “Excuse me?” Jane asked after a few seconds. Albert realized Jane was playing the game and that he’d spoken out of turn. He waited until Stephen and Mary were reunited.

  “I said that Stephen has improved.”

  “Yes, he shows promise. It’s a pity Mary has no more regard for him than friend, for I think he wishes for more than friendship.”

  “It’s a little complicated …” he had to pause while Stephen and Mary separated. He was about to explain further when they rejoined but Jane spoke first.

  “Love is always complicated,” she said, perhaps wilfully misunderstanding him. “Or rather, people make it complicated, with layers of misunderstanding and … deception. It is a novelist’s stock in trade. Albert you must know how deeply I am ashamed of my deception and I beg your forgiveness.”

  But Albert had obeyed the rules of the dance and had “lost” connection with Mary’s terminal.

  “What did you say?” he asked as Stephen and Mary rejoined.

  “I said I am sorry to have deceived you,” Jane replied quickly. “Please forgive me.”

  “Only if you’ll …” He paused until Stephen and Mary reunited. Fortunately they had just reached the end of the line and Stephen and Mary must wait a turn.

  “… forgive me my insensitive behaviour. I don’t know why I acted so stupidly toward someone I … care for.”

  Jane paused to consider her next words. “‘Care for?’ How timid that sounds. I doubt I would have been so upset with someone I just care for?”

  “It’s true we have never spoken of any deeper affections Jane. Perhaps we’re too sensible to entertain thoughts of love.”

  It was time for Stephen and Mary to progress through the line and Albert and Jane effortlessly followed them.

  “But love requires hands to hold and lips to kiss,” Jane said.

  “‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments,’3 as the man said,” Albert said in response.

  Stephen and Mary again separated and when they returned, Jane replied: “What does love even mean for us? What form does it take? How do we show it or profess it?”

  And suddenly Albert realized he must be the hero of his own story—of their story. With an eloquence he never knew he possessed, he said, “All I require from you is three words, uttered once. I require no minister, no ceremony, no announcement. All I require is the sure and certain knowledge that you love me, for if you, whose opinion I hold more dear than any one I have ever known, say those words, I know that it is writ in stone. You would not say those words simply to comfort me or on a whim. You would only say them if you meant them.”

  How well he knows me, she thought. But then in the space of a few short years, I have spent more words with him than with any man I have ever known.

  “But I have never let you truly know me,” she said with an attack of guilt. “How can that be a basis for love?”

  “You have leaked your soul to me drop by drop. Despite your deception, and despite my overreaction to it, I think I know your heart and soul and I think you love me.”

  “But what does that matter when …”

  “Oh for God’s sake, just tell him you love him!” Mary silently screamed into her terminal. She had stopped in mid step while Stephen and the other dancers continued, causing a small collision.

  Jane saw the confusion. Her avatar remained motionless and now the crowd was beginning to notice the commotion and that Mary was the cause of it.

  “YOU WERE LISTENING!” she said to Mary, angered that her avatar would again presume.

  “Tell him you love him or I swear I’ll scream,” Mary said, still silently, but Jane could see Mary’s face and throat colour from emotion.

  “You had no right to listen,” objected Jane.

  “Tell him!” And for just a second, Jane fancied that Mary could see her and she wilted before the determined look of her friend.

  “I will, I will, just continue dancing,” she said.

  “Say it now,” Mary demanded.

  “Yes, I love you, Albert.” Jane said it as quickly as she could and with her words came a tremendous relief and a disbelief that it should have been so hard to say.

  Albert, surprised by the exchange between Jane and Mary, was taken aback.

  “What? You do?”

  “Yes, I love you.”

  “Jane! If I could only kiss you …”

  And Mary, still listening, loudly whispered to Stephen. “Quick, kiss me.”

  “What?”

  “Just kiss me. Now!”

  And Stephen did.

  1 Mr. Beveridge’s Maggot and Hole in the Wall are English country dances that should be familiar if you’ve watched a few Austen movie adaptations. Mr. Beveridge’s Maggot was featured in the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. (In this context, maggot means a whimsical fancy.) By Jane Austen’s day, Mr. Beveridge’s Maggot was considered ancient. Jane Austen and Tom Lefroy (and Harris Bigg-Wither) can be seen dancing Hole in the Wall in the movie Becoming Jane.

  2 Uttered by Fitzwilliam Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, Volume I, Chapter 6

  3 From William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116

  Antigone…with zombies

  Six months later

  “Defy our father! It would be the death of us all,” Mary cried out. She took a step toward Zoe, the actress playing the part of Antigone.

  “No! No! Mary—Ismene is timid—don’t get all in her face,” the director said. “Dial it down a notch and try again.”

  She bit back the remark she was about to make.

  It’s just not worth it, they’ll just cut me and hire somebody else if I tell him how wrong he is.

  “OK, David,” she said instead. He smiled and she read through the lines again straight to the end of the scene.

  “Good read through, everybody. Let’s take five, and by the way, I heard at least two ringtones while we were reading, so please turn off your damn phones.”

  He dismissed them and caught Mary as she left the room, “Thanks for taking direction, Mary. I know Ismene is written as standing up to her sister, but I wanted to do something different.”

  “Oh, sure,” she said, happy to know she hadn’t misread the character. She was going to say more but he’d already turned away, apparently eager to have another little talk with somebody else.

  He’s wrong about Ismene, of course, but it was nice of him to say something.

  It wasn’t a great play—Antigone set against a modern-day zombie apocalypse and faux Greek tragedy dialogue—but she tried to treat it as seriously as she could. After all, the playwright was in the room as they rehearsed the read-through.

  Admittedly it was a bit of a cheat, rehearsing actors for what was supposed to be a cold read, but she understood what was riding on their performance. If they were successful, the producers might get a backer to stage a production.

  Well it’s not my worry. If the playwright isn’t going to fight for what he wrote …

  She went down the hallway, looking for a vending machine, but was interrupted by the gentle vibration of the phone in her purse. She fumbled for her phone, took it out and frowned at the unfamiliar caller ID.

  “Hello.”

  “Ms Cranford?”

  “Who is this?”

  “I’m Jessica Hanson, the casting director for Sanditon. It’s a movie based on Jane …”

  “I’m familiar with it,” Mary replied, sure her voice conveyed confusion and more than a little suspicion.

  “OK. I got to tell you, it was hard finding you. Actor’s Equity didn’t have a Mary Cranford on record.”

  “It’s a new stage name. I only just changed it.”

  “Well I finally found you, th
at’s what’s important.”

  Mary decided to avoid holding the conversation in the hallway and found a door leading outside. She’d thought the door led to the street, but instead found it opened onto an alley. It was late afternoon on the early spring day and the alley was already shrouded in darkness. She wished she’d brought her jacket.

  “How can I help you, Ms …”

  “Hanson. Look Ms Cranford, forgive me for asking, but who is it that you know?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No, it’s none of my business. Well you probably know why I’m calling.”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “You don’t? Well we’ve got a part for you. It’s just a walk on, or maybe it’s a cameo … that can’t be right … I’m not sure. Anyway, we’re shooting next week, so I hope you can make it. You are a SAG1 member, aren’t you?”

  “Look, can I call you right back? Well in … in an hour? I’m actually in a read-through right now.”

  “Uh, sure, but it’s really urgent. Call me back in an hour.”

  Mary made sure she had the woman’s number before disconnecting. Once off the phone, she looked for someplace to sit and saw in the middle of the alley a white plastic lawn table and a few plastic chairs. She walked toward the table and deduced from the fag ends on the ground that she’d found the smoking area.

  She sat on one of the chairs after sweeping away a food wrapper and then called another number.

  “Mary! How delightful! We were just wondering how you’re getting on.”

  “Hi Jane. What, are you with Melody?”

  “Yes, she’s here. Do you want to call back to the office? Then I can put you on conference call.”

  Mary had to smile at her image of Jane sitting at an old-fashioned telephone switchboard.

  “No, it’s you I wanted to talk to.”

  “Have you seen the trailer yet?”

  Mary was confused by the non sequitur, then realized that Jane was talking about a movie trailer for Sanditon.

  “How can they have a trailer for a movie they haven’t even filmed yet?”

  “It’s apparently quite common. It’s called a teaser trailer and uses clips from earlier movies.”

  “Oh, no I haven’t. I’ll look for it. Actually, that’s the reason … I got a call from the casting director for Sanditon … they want me to do a walk on.”

  “What is that?”

  “And I thought you were an old movie hand. It’s just a small part in a movie without lines.”

  “Oh, I had hoped for something more … substantial.”

  “What? You knew about this?”

  “Of course. I asked Melody to arrange it.”

  That news pushed her back and made her realize the back of the brittle plastic chair had separated from its arms. She switched to a different chair.

  “Uh, I thought my contract didn’t allow me to …”

  “Do you want to appear in Sanditon or not?”

  “Well yes, of course,” Mary said.

  “It’s a welcome back present, a last fillip to your vacation … before you return to work.”

  “I still don’t know how it will work. If anyone recognizes …”

  “There is no danger. You are to play the fortune teller.”

  “Jane, there is no fortune teller in Sanditon.”

  “Apparently there is as of the last rewrite … something about ‘a device to propel the script forward.’ I have to warn you the role likely won’t survive and you may only appear as a DVD extra and Melody has made my objection known …”

  “Gee, great job selling it. I’m kidding. I’d be happy to have any part in a movie.”

  Thus assured that the movie offer wasn’t a mistake that she would have to refuse, she and Jane were free to talk of other things.

  “And how did the Florida trip go?”

  “A little overwhelming, I must confess. Albert’s family is … quite extensive.”

  “And did they all love you? Like I said they would.”

  “I believe they did. And it was fun to just be Albert’s ‘lady friend.’”

  “And did you go to Disneyland?”

  “Disney World … and I’m sure Albert has already related to you my embarrassing incident.”

  “I know, it was so cute. How long did you have to wait in lost and found?”

  “It was no more than three quarters of an hour. They are very efficient. Florida has a very large disembodied population.”

  “And how’s Mel doing?”

  “Sigh. Still at a loss, I’m afraid. She’s thrown herself into work, as usual. But I’m meeting Tamara for lunch tomorrow. Maybe I can talk some sense into them separately.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

  “Nonsense. You needed to pursue your own dreams for a while. I did get a call from Stephen the other day. He asked about you.”

  “Oh poor Jane. You’re stuck in the middle of everyone’s love life. I’ll call him. I promise”

  “You are both in Chicago. Surely you can meet him.”

  Mary then heard her name being called from the other end of the alley—“Cranford! Get your ass back in here. Cranford!”—and then the sound of a slamming door.

  “Got to go, Jane. They’re calling for me.”

  She made her goodbye and hurried back inside. As the door closed behind her she heard the rumble of an elevated train. The sound, combined with Jane’s mention of him, reminded her of the first day she’d spent with Stephen.

  1 The Screen Actors Guild is an American labour union representing professional film and television actors in the United States. Actor’s Equity represents stage actors.

  Titbits IV

  About the author

  Jane, Actually is Jennifer Petkus’s third book. Previously she wrote Good Cop, Dead Cop (the first book about the AfterNet) and My Particular Friend (a Sherlock Holmes/Jane Austen mashup). Once she stops writing in the third person and publishes this book, she’ll return to the task of writing The Background Noise of Souls (the sequel to her first book) and Our Mutual Friends (the sequel to her second book).

  Ms Petkus is a member of JASNA, Doctor Watson’s Neglected Patients, The Wodehouse Society and Rocky Mountain Ki Society (she has a first-degree black belt in aikido but refuses to test for second degree because she’s old). She has been a reporter and a web designer but can now be best described as an unsuccessful author. Her friends derisively call her a kept woman. She is happily married. She watched Neil Armstrong walk on the moon live. She likes to make furniture and scale models, but is not very good at either.