Persuading Austen

by Brigid Coady

  Eros Audio Books, Annie read.

  On the page, there were thumbnail photos of book covers, with titles like Dark Forbidden Love and The Long Hard Ride and pictures of couples writhing naked. Annie wasn’t sure some of the positions were physically possible. Underneath the book covers were authors’ names and then credits saying ‘Narrated by …’ Most of them seemed to be narrated by Miss Bee Hayve.

  ‘But …’ Annie was confused. ‘Why are you showing me naughty books?’

  She was pretty sure none of the photos were of Immy and Immy didn’t read so it was unlikely she was writing erotica.

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake.’ Immy took the machine back and pressed a button. Sound suddenly exploded from the speakers. It was Immy’s voice, slightly tinny but definitely hers.

  ‘Desdemona fell back onto the bed, the black silk sheets caressing her hot skin. I want you, Rick, she moaned as her hand slipped between his legs and cradled his hard, hot …’

  Annie slammed the laptop closed. ‘Oh.’ There wasn’t much else she could think to say. ‘You’re Miss Bee Hayve,’ Annie said.

  The moaning and groaning coming from Immy’s room that day: she hadn’t been having sex; she’d been practising.

  Where the hell were you supposed to look when you found out your sister did erotic recordings under an assumed almost burlesque name, Annie thought as she stared at the corner of the room. This might be more embarrassing than asking if she was a thief.

  ‘So …’ She coughed to clear her throat. ‘Does it pay well?’

  ‘Better than you’d expect,’ Immy said, her voice quiet and muted.

  ‘Good, good.’

  Annie wondered how she could leave the room with at least some of their dignity in tact.

  ‘That’s great, Immy. Really proud of you.’

  Annie just stopped herself making a pair of thumbs-up signs and backed towards the door. She jumped as there was a knock. She turned round, opened the door, and saw the housekeeper.

  Thank God. She could have kissed her.

  ‘Bye, Immy,’ she called as she fled the scene.

  So it wasn’t Immy. Which meant it could only be Dad. Any sense of accomplishment faded.

  ***

  Annie walked back into the hotel after a long, wet day on set. Yesterday felt both a long time ago and a blink away. At least Eric hadn’t called again to threaten her livelihood, but even though she had ruled out Immy as a thief, she still needed to talk to Dad.

  Joy.

  At least there had been no more gossip on the internet. And watching Will’s complete inability to control a horse, and fall off, had given her a sense of satisfaction even if it lengthened the day.

  You would’ve thought that would be the first thing they’d check before casting him. That and his ability to keep his mouth shut.

  God, she was sick of it, done with the whole thing. Why the hell was she covering for her family? If Immy wasn’t stealing the money then someone else had to be and the only one left on her list was Dad.

  Her wet boots made her toes curl and she could feel the edges of her coat dripping down onto her jeans. A typical English summer day.

  Damp.

  Please don’t let Dad be narrating erotic audiobooks, she thought, shuddering at the memory of Desdemona and Rick. That would send her over the edge.

  If Austen knew he’d give one of his big guffaws and start making over-the-top erotic narration.

  Not that he would find out.

  He hadn’t spoken to her in two days, ever since their breakfast musketeer moment, but he had been looking over at her when Will fell off.

  She had put her hand over her mouth to stop from giggling as much as from shock. Austen’s eyes had crinkled into a grin, even though his mouth hardly moved.

  Maybe she should tell him? Give them both a laugh.

  Stop thinking about Austen – that was over and done with. Even if he didn’t move on with Louisa, their time was past.

  She needed a drink. Maybe that would wash away her want for Austen and gird her loins to confront Dad.

  It would be a very large drink.

  And maybe one that warmed her from the inside out because of the shitty weather. The last scene with Austen and Will on horseback had been soggy. Both had looked forlorn and bedraggled as the muddy riding scene had gone on long into the afternoon.

  At least Dad had been happily ensconced in his trailer out of the weather, lucky bugger.

  Christ, this was already going to be horrible. She didn’t want to think how it would go if he’d been damp as well.

  ‘Vodka and tonic, please.’ She smiled tightly at the barman.

  ‘No whisky for you?’ Will said suddenly from beside her. Annie sighed and closed her eyes. Why couldn’t Will just disappear? How did he know to turn up when she feeling at her most fragile?

  She opened her eyes and looked at him from the corner of her eye. It looked like he’d had a chance to shower and change since this afternoon. Her feet squelched in her soaked boots as she shifted her weight.

  ‘I don’t drink whisky,’ she said as she tapped her finger on the bar, wondering how she could graciously get out of speaking with him.

  She didn’t need another confrontation tonight.

  ‘So, it is only your father who is into it.’ Will sounded as if he were gloating, which was odd. She didn’t have the energy for this.

  ‘Yes, Daddy likes a glass of Scotch in the evenings.’ She rubbed her temple. Would they let her take the drink to her room?

  ‘Bit less Scotch these days and a bit more saké, surely.’ Will definitely sounded as if he were rubbing his hands in glee. Annie turned to check he wasn’t.

  A smug smile spread across his face.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked as the vodka tonic was passed across the bar with the bill. Looking down she signed her name and put on her room number.

  Surely this counted as an allowable business expense?

  ‘Oh come on, Annie, don’t be coy. You know all about King Billy’s foray into the world of advertising.’

  Annie wasn’t paid enough for this kind of cryptic nonsense. ‘Will, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Either say something that makes sense or shut up.’

  Maybe she should have said that better? Or maybe not. She had nothing left in her to be polite and Will never seemed to get the hint that she wasn’t interested.

  ‘I think it would be better if I showed you,’ Will said after a moment.

  Will flipped his phone round, started playing a clip and handed it to Annie.

  If this shut him up, she was happy to watch as many unfunny memes as he wanted to show her.

  Holy crap.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  This was no unfunny meme. Well it might become one at some point in time but in that moment for her … Annie was sure she was in a nightmare.

  On the small screen she could see her dad dressed up like some demented fairy tale king. On his head was a crown, which added almost another foot to his height. It was a monstrous design of mixed eras and countries: East meets West over a thousand millennia. The set he was being filmed in was designed as a medieval banqueting hall whose hostess had a thing for Kabuki theatre and its embellishments.

  ‘What?’ Annie couldn’t help saying, as she almost dropped the phone.

  ‘Watch it,’ Will grouched as he put his hands out in the hope of catching it if it fell. ‘I don’t have it insured.’

  Annie flapped her hand at him, waving him away. She focused on the screen and turned up the sound.

  ‘You have been found guilty of treason and plotting against your king. How do you plead?’

  Her dad’s voice came out of the phone small and tinny but unmistakably him, and she watched the Japanese subtitles pop up on the bottom of the screen.

  The shot then flipped to a buxom blonde actress wearing the sort of armour that would never protect her in a fight. But it did show all her ‘attributes’ to their best advantage.


  ‘Not guilty.’

  The words weren’t quite in sync, which wasn’t surprising as that was definitely not the blonde’s usual voice. Much too husky and well spoken, and belonged to an actress Annie knew was at least four inches shorter than the girl on screen – also ten inches wider and twenty years older.

  Annie knew her mouth was open as the mock Game of Thrones style advert carried on, ending with the blonde spread over her father’s lap suggestively, but she couldn’t shut it. She made a small groaning sound as suddenly there were dragons curled round the feet of the throne. Then it finished with the two of them drinking from a bottle of Ichihoko whisky. And the final indignity was her father saying.

  ‘Ichihoko, for inflaming the fiercest of dragons.’

  Annie wasn’t sure how the dragons had factored into the whole thing, but this was awful, and she knew she wasn’t being poker-faced about it. This was a meme in the making and after everything, Dad would be seen for what he really was: a buffoon. She looked back at the frozen screen. He was holding that blonde a bit too close; it was almost predatory … maybe it was the part but she wasn’t convinced.

  On top of everything she definitely didn’t need to be calling someone ten years younger than her ‘Mummy’.

  ‘Your dad is a sly old dog. I thought he was too grand for those sorts of advertising tricks.’ Will smiled slyly at her.

  Annie wanted to open her mouth and say that Dad would never lower himself to make a fool of himself like this.

  He hadn’t before but …

  This was what she wanted from him, wasn’t it? She had wanted him to start getting off his behind and earning money to keep the family afloat. To bury his ego and graft just like her mum had done, just like she did.

  Damn it.

  Annie downed the rest of her drink rather than reply.

  Still not speaking she gestured for another one.

  Okay, so this drink was less Dutch courage to ask her dad if he’d been embezzling and more about trying to blank that truly atrocious advert out of her brain.

  ‘I heard that it is going viral on certain parts of Facebook …’ Will was tapping away on his phone.

  Annie narrowed her eyes. And I wonder who is feeding that, she thought.

  ‘I’m glad Dad has decided to spread his wings. It is always good to push yourself,’ she croaked and took a slug of the new drink the barman pushed towards her.

  ‘He looked like he wanted to spread something; that is for sure.’ Will winked and sauntered out of the bar.

  Annie managed to stop herself spitting her drink out and swallowed painfully.

  Between the advert and the erotic audiobooks she needed to bleach her brain.

  But at least it let Dad off the hook. Adverts like that paid well. It didn’t seem that her family were the ones nicking the money. Annie wondered if she should be drinking to celebrate. She was happy. Really, she was – there wouldn’t be any visiting an open prison somewhere the other end of England to fit into her schedule.

  Now she just had to work out who was taking the money. But first she really needed to apologize to Dad.

  ***

  She took a deep breath and walked over to where her dad was sitting on a canvas chair waiting for his scene to begin. Maybe it was mean to ambush him before he had to work, but as he wasn’t really speaking to her she had to try.

  ‘Dad,’ she said.

  He looked up, frowned, and looked away without a word.

  Okay, she was going to have to jump in with both feet.

  ‘Dad, I know about the Ichihoko whisky commercial.’

  Annie had never seen her father look so flabbergasted as he did then. His mouth was open and the colour drained from his face.

  Please, don’t let her have killed him from shock.

  ‘But, well …’ he started.

  ‘Dad, I think it is great,’ Annie rushed on. ‘Maybe a little over the top but this is the sort of work that you have to do if you want to keep on acting and doing theatre. It makes the money. Just like Mum did all those years ago. I’m so proud.’

  He looked uncomfortable. This wasn’t the sort of relationship they had.

  ‘I mean, admittedly it was a little bit of a shock to see that woman draped all over you,’ Annie finished.

  His colour came flooding back in a rush. ‘Candida Clay is a very talented actress and she has been very grateful for the extra coaching and time I’ve taken with her since the shoot.’

  I’ll bet she has, Annie thought and wondered how well Immy would take having a stepmother who was significantly younger and better endowed.

  ‘I’m sorry that I pushed you to leave the house. We needed to do it but I should’ve done it in a better way.’

  Annie felt the last bubble of guilt she’d been holding on to pop. Dad never needed to know she had thought him a criminal.

  ‘I accept your apology,’ he said.

  Annie waited to see if he would say any more. Take any responsibility for his side of things.

  The silence stretched longer.

  ‘Mr Elliot, we’re ready for you,’ Tanya came over and said.

  ‘Okay, good talk. Speak later,’ Annie said to his back as he walked away.

  Some things never changed.

  ***

  ‘What I don’t understand,’ Lily said as she strode into the catering tent and up to Annie as if carrying on a conversation Annie didn’t know she was having, ‘is why you haven’t been taking advantage of all this publicity with Will. I mean, he looks like he’s into you.’

  Really, could this week get any worse?

  After the ‘erotic audiobook confession’ as she’d taken to calling Immy’s revelation in her head and ‘Ichihoko Game of Thrones Meme’, she didn’t need her godmother of all people trying to set her up with her distant relative.

  Or even making a suggestion that it was a good thing for publicity or something. Especially with someone that Annie was beginning to feel revolted by. Actually, skip the beginning bit. Annie was revolted by him.

  ‘What …’ Annie started, her head hurting from all this drama. She stopped for a moment and laid her forehead on the plastic trestle table.

  Would she survive this production?

  Her godmother, Lily Russell, was in costume, dressed as Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Annie didn’t think she was into method acting but Aunt Lil was obviously getting into character by being as managing as possible.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Annie said without lifting her head. Why couldn’t she have lunch in peace? She knew she should’ve just stayed in her office even if the tomatoes sometimes rolled off the salad plate as she walked to her desk.

  ‘Will Elliot.’ Lily spread her skirts as she sat down.

  Annie scooted to the edge of the bench so that she didn’t crumple the material.

  ‘He’s always in the tabloids, and he’s doing great things for this production. It has raised your Father’s, Immy’s, and Marie’s profiles. The production is getting lots of buzz.’

  ‘And this has to do with me how?’ Annie frowned. What did she have to do with promo for the production? She was the numbers person, the behind-the-scenes person. She didn’t do the spotlight. No matter what Eric thought.

  ‘Immy’s too old and Marie’s married but imagine the headlines if you and Will really got together. I’ve seen the gossip columns; they’re already thinking it. Imagine all those stories about overcoming a family prejudice, the burying of hatchets. It would be a golden opportunity for you to get some of the happiness you deserve. And I know he’s interested.’

  Annie decided that watching a woman in early nineteenth century dress wiggle her eyebrows at her as if alluding to sexy times was almost as awful as the whisky commercial. Almost.

  She shuddered.

  Did Dad get given any of the Ichihoko whisky as a freebie? She’d need a shot or two soon.

  ‘Aunt Lil, I’m not interested in Will that way.’ Annie said it quietly; the last thing she wanted was som
e garbled version of this conversation to end up in the press.

  She needed to stop sitting on her own, where she could be ambushed. She needed back-up. Annie found herself looking for her musketeers.

  There they were, on the other side of the tent.

  Austen had his head turned so she could only see his profile. He was smiling softly, only a hint of dimples, and was listening to Harry who was waving his arms round as he told some story.

  How could she tell Aunt Lil there really had only been one person she had ever been interested in ‘that way’ and it hadn’t changed for the past eight years.

  ‘Pshaw,’ said Lily.

  ‘Really?’ Annie couldn’t believe that Lily was now beginning to sound like a very badly written Regency romance.

  ‘Look, Annie. Let me be blunt.’ Annie didn’t think Lily was anything but blunt. ‘You aren’t getting any younger and I know you want a family. It really is a pity you didn’t marry Charlie, but never mind.’ Lily waved it away as if it were an annoying gnat.

  A family? Where did this come from?

  ‘When did I say I wanted a family?’ Annie gaped.

  Did they really not know her at all?

  She racked her brain – nope, she didn’t think her biological clock was ticking. Did she give off baby-mad signals she didn’t know about?

  I mean, she thought, I love Hector and Arthur but …

  She shuddered.

  Having spent most of her life looking after everyone else why would she add to it? Plus she would be adding another label to her list. Mother. Never Annie.

  Maybe if she was with the right person then it wouldn’t be so bad … She very definitely didn’t look at Austen when she thought that. But she wasn’t going to shack up with someone as a business decision.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Annie. You’ve always been very maternal. The way you look after William and Imogen. Of course you want a family.’ Aunt Lil patted her hand and went back to her lunch as if it were a done deal.

  Okay, Annie didn’t really know what to say. Because she had a sense of responsibility and kept her promises to make sure her family was first that made her some maternal goddess.

  Annie could feel anger burning up through her, rage flitting at the edges of her nerve endings.