by Jane Odiwe
Despairing of seeing anything of my friends as the morning was almost over, I had given up hope when to my enormous pleasure I saw Charles walk through the doors. He was chatting to a lady and a gentleman that made me instantly think that he must be another brother with his dark auburn hair. Jane came along next with a young girl hanging onto her hand and behind them followed Cassandra with Mr and Mrs Austen. Waving as she spotted me, I saw Jane point me out to the child turning her in my direction.
‘Miss Elliot, here is my niece, Anna.’
The little girl who looked to be about seven or eight years of age bobbed a curtsey, putting one small foot behind the other before looking to her aunt for approval, which was soon granted in an indulgent smile.
‘My brother James is here in Bath with his wife and their two children for a visit. Anna is put to my charge, but we have left her small brother behind today with his nursery maid.’
‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ I answered with a returning bob. ‘And how are you enjoying Bath, Miss Anna?’
‘I’m having a lovely visit, thank you, Miss Elliot. It is heavenly to see Aunt Jane again, I miss her so much,’ she said, stepping nearer towards Jane until she felt the arm of her aunt encircle her shoulders. ‘I used to see her almost every day and I wish she could come home to Steventon to live with me again.’
‘I’m sure you miss her very much, as I will do, too, when I have to go away,’ I said.
A frown wrinkled between Jane’s brows. ‘Whatever do you mean? Are you leaving us?’
‘I’m afraid we are, at Mr Glanville’s invitation. Believe me, Miss Austen, if it was in my power, I should not go anywhere, but it is all decided. We are leaving for Lyme and will be touring the West Country, perhaps even going as far as Wales.’
‘Oh, my goodness, I am disappointed to hear you are leaving so soon and I know someone is going to be particularly upset to hear your news.’
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charles approach. ‘What news is this, Miss Elliot?’ he asked.
I couldn’t say the words. Jane spoke for me instead. ‘Miss Elliot is leaving us for Lyme.’
Charles looked at me with an expression that demanded more detail. ‘I did not know you were going away.’
‘I did not know myself until yesterday. We are leaving on Friday morning. I do not know how long we shall be gone, or even if we shall return to Bath, but I think our trip will be of some duration.’
‘We are going away ourselves in June,’ said Jane. ‘My mother and father have talked of visiting Dawlish and Teignmouth, which are only a little further along the coast from Lyme. Perhaps we will see each other on our travels. Indeed, you must write to me and let me know where you are for as long as you are able and I shall let you know of our direction.’
‘Yes, Miss Elliot, you must write to my sister,’ pressed Charles. ‘Promise that you will.’
I nodded, smiling into his eyes that looked so searchingly into mine. There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. Now that I had told them I felt sadder than ever about leaving.
‘Are you to attend the gala?’
Charles was studying my face.
‘Yes.’ Trying hard to appear my usual, cheerful self was impossible. I felt if I stayed there much longer I might cry.
‘Let us meet on the morrow and enjoy a walk up to Beechen Cliff as we promised before,’ said Jane. ‘It would be such a pity to part without witnessing Charles’s ascent – a sight to cheer the most dismal soul, if I’m not mistaken. And, it would not be fair for Miss Elliot to miss such a spectacle, Charles. I shouldn’t wonder if she hasn’t had a small wager on your chances of gaining the top!’
I gave Charles a mischievous grin, as if every word Jane spoke was true. He smiled wryly and took so long to answer, preferring to stare into my eyes that I felt my cheeks grow warm.
‘Never fear, ladies, I am more than willing to meet your challenge. You will see me gain the summit and what is more, I shall provide a picnic treat for those who can join me.’
‘There, Miss Elliot, now you cannot refuse an invitation of such an exciting and persuasive nature, I do not think,’ said Jane, who was clearly trying not to laugh. ‘What could be more diverting than the sight of a competent hill walker fairly running up Beechen Cliff with a picnic basket on his head?’
‘I shall look forward to it very much.’
James and his wife joined us then and all talk of our plans ceased for the moment. It was fascinating to recognize the Austen features in this brother and though a pleasant looking man, he had none of Charles’s air or stature. He had a sensitive face, I thought, and seemed rather ill-matched with his wife, who proved to be irritable and short-tempered. She interrupted the conversation with a demand to be escorted to fetch her water. It didn’t escape my notice that Anna looked rather fearfully at her stepmother who scolded her repeatedly for coughing; slouching, and it seemed, for simply being in her presence.
‘Anna, do not hang onto Aunt Jane like that and stand up straight. Please stop coughing, my nerves can’t abide it, but if you must, hold your handkerchief to your mouth. We will all be ill if you cough so.’
Jane’s brother wasn’t allowed his share in the conversation. He’d started listening to Charles, but his wife was not interested in anyone else. ‘Depend upon it, James, I would rather not take the waters, but Dr. Bowen has recommended I take three glasses daily and I do not think I should be the person to contradict his prescription. No one suffers more than I do, as you know, and if I could just see this illness off, I daresay, I would be right as rain. Come and procure a glass for me, my dear. The pumper is an ill- natured fellow at best and if he is not watched will shorthand us with only half our due.’
Mr James Austen smiled indulgently at his wife who took his arm and without acknowledging anyone else started to lead him away until recollecting something, she turned and spoke to her stepdaughter. ‘Anna, come here and stop bothering your aunt.’
‘Mary, she is no trouble, believe me,’ Jane said, ‘I’ll see to Anna, you go and take your water. We may go for a little walk then, so please do not worry. We will have much to occupy us, shall we not?’
Anna beamed up at her aunt, her excitement at being rescued all too plain to see.
‘Dear me! What an excellent idea, very good indeed,’ said Mary Austen. ‘You have such a way with little Anna; she’s so attentive to you and I must admit, my nerves are very bad today. I adore my children as much as the next person, but such constant attention is so very wearing.’
‘Worry no further, leave Anna to my care,’ Jane insisted.
‘Have some time on your own with James and we will all meet together later.’
It may well have been my imagination but the atmosphere felt much lightened after they’d gone. The little girl relaxed in the company of her uncle and aunt. Miraculously, her nervous cough seemed to disappear. Charles teased her and made her laugh by instantly producing a coin from behind her ear. She gazed up at him with round eyes and as she begged for more, he managed to produce another. ‘What shall we spend it on, Anna? A book for Grandpapa, or a piece of lace for Grandmama?’
Anna’s face drooped with disappointment.
‘Hmm, I do not know how we might spend it,’ Charles continued, his lip curling with amusement, ‘for I’ve a feeling that Grandpapa has a book to read and Grandmama has so much lace she really doesn’t need another piece. I suppose we could buy a ribbon for Aunt Jane, or a paintbrush for Aunt Cassandra. I cannot think who else might like to spend it. Does anyone have a suggestion?’
Anna stood quietly looking up at her uncle. There was hope in her eyes, but she seemed reluctant to speak.
‘Oh, Charles, tease her no longer,’ Jane cried.
‘The pennies are yours to spend, Anna,’ said Charles, laughing as he saw the excitement in the young girl’s face. ‘Where shall we squander them?’
In the pastry cook’s please, Uncle Charles!’
I was just joining in the lau
ghter when Emma came to fetch me saying that it was time to go home. There was no more opportunity to talk and all I could hope was that our plans for the next day would not be spoiled before we left Bath forever.
Chapter Twenty Two
‘My sister and brother have been out on a commission this morning,’ Jane said, walking at my side down Great Pulteney Street. ‘We are to meet them at the foot of Lyncombe Lane.’
I could hardly believe that I was free at last. It was wonderful to be out of the house and to be able to walk down the road with Jane felt like huge independence. But, I might as well have been in another country as be in Bath; I hardly recognized my surroundings as we followed the river’s snaking course. Everywhere looked and felt far more rural, appearing to be a much smaller place than the Bath I knew. As we passed a row of shops at Widcombe, which I didn’t know at all, Jane said how much she liked the place saying it reminded her of the small villages in Hampshire where she grew up.
‘You must miss your home very much, Miss Austen.’
‘I confess I do. At this time of year, it is most delightful in spring and in summer when Bath in the heat becomes unbearable; the old Steventon Rectory comes into its own. It’s not the smartest or most modern of houses, Miss Elliot, often flooding in winter, but it’s always deliciously cool in summer. And it is when the Syringa is first in bloom heralding the start of summer that the garden is at its best. I can close my eyes now and be sitting in the arbour where I can see the flowerbeds under my father’s study and watch his white head bent over his scholars’books. To take a stroll in the garden lost in time itself, watching the shadows on the sun-dial count the hours, or wandering along the terrace walk listening to the scrape of the weathercock, are some of my happiest recollections.’
‘It sounds delightful. But, I hope your memories are not too painful to recall, Miss Austen.’
‘Oh no, I like to remember them and it is a comfort to talk. I wish you could have visited Cassy and I at Steventon when we had the delight of our own private dressing room. It was a place where we could easily escape and we lived almost entirely amongst the pleasures that awaited us there. I had my beloved pianoforte then, to play at leisure.’
‘A room of your own, it sounds delightful!’
‘Oh, Miss Elliot, we were most fortunate. There was an oval looking glass set between the windows, striped curtains, a chocolate coloured rug and my precious books arranged on shelves above a painted press. Goodness knows where those old friends are now. So many books we had to sell before we came here.’
‘I couldn’t imagine being without books that I love.’
‘We had little choice. But, in the end, I decided that I knew most of them so well that it did not matter. They will always be there in my head. In any case, above all, there was one comfort they couldn’t take from me.’
I had a feeling I could guess what she was talking about.
‘Do you ever write, Miss Elliot?’Jane continued. ‘Not just letters, I mean, but have you ever tried your hand at writing composition? For myself, there is nothing I’d rather do. It is the greatest passion of my life.’
‘Indeed, I have, Miss Austen, and I enjoy writing very much, although my attempts to compose an entire work of any length have come to naught, thus far.’
‘Miss Elliot, I knew there was a reason that we are such friends. To think that you are a sister writer and I did not know it before. It is clear we have much in common, as my very own unsuccessful efforts to become published will testify. Tell me, are you writing at present?’
‘I am, but my novel is only just started,’ I answered truthfully.
‘Please, Miss Austen, I would love to hear about your writing. I am certain it cannot be such a struggle for you, as it is for me.’
‘On the contrary. I have written several attempts at novels, yet I find I am unsatisfied with any of them. I fetch them out occasionally, but it has been difficult since moving to Bath. I am not so much at leisure to compose here, I snatch whatever time I can.’
‘Do you not find Bath an inspiration for composing, Miss Austen?’
‘In its way, I suppose it has lent itself to my ideas. I first penned a novel that I set in Bath when I was just a visitor to the city and saw the delights of the winter pleasures through another’s eyes.’
‘How I should love to read it and discover whose eyes inspired your tale.’
‘They were quite my own, Miss Elliot, though I was then a country girl excited with all I saw and quite ready to have my heart broken by the first fellow who danced with me. My heroine declared, “Oh! Who can ever be tired of Bath!” and I felt very much the same. I have never been completely happy with my manuscript and when I look at it now I hardly recognize the delight I found in writing it.’
‘I often feel like that when I look back on my work. Perhaps you will return to it one day.’
‘I daresay the fashion for gothic novels will be quite over by the time I shall make any attempt on it, and I am not sure if readers are ready to laugh at them with me. No, I think it most likely that this particular manuscript will stay in my writing box for good.’
I noted Jane’s disappointed face and it seemed she was reticent to say any more. I was sure she must be referring to Northanger Abbey and wanted to tell her that she would find the opportunity to work on it again, but, of course, I could not.
The subject was changed as we wandered past the shops. Jane pointed out the Mantua maker’s where she’d had her cloak made up and Smith’s the baker’s shop with its slabs of gingerbread laid out on trays in the window.
‘I hope Cassandra and Charles remembered to stop here,’ she said. ‘I am very partial to gingerbread and I did request some for our picnic. It’s not far now, we should see them soon hard by the mill.’
I saw Charles before he saw me. Dressed in a dark green coat and buff breeches he towered over Cassandra. I felt so pleased to see him and experienced a sense of excitement that I hardly dared acknowledge. Beechen Cliff above us rose steeply ahead. I was soon out of breath, but Jane and Cassy seemed to find it no effort at all striking out at a march, their parasols shading them from the warm sun. Charles, ever the gentleman, sauntered along beside me.
‘Will you take my arm, Miss Elliot? The path is precipitous and if you are not used to it, I fear it will be very hard work.’
A fleeting recollection of Charles’s future fate flashed before me. I wanted to protest, to say that I could easily manage but, even as I willed myself to do so, Sophia had other ideas. She, I knew, wanted to take his arm. My body disobeyed my mind, my arm found his and we fell comfortably into step. Jane and Cassandra did not seem to want to wait for us and they soon disappeared from view, screened by trees and hanging coppice.
‘It is wonderful to be in England again and to see the beauty of the landscape all around us,’ said Lieutenant Austen looking about him. ‘You know, Miss Elliot, it is a funny thing but when I am away at sea, all my memories and reminiscences are of home and of being outdoors in scenes like these. I love my life as a sailor and would not wish to be doing anything else. Yet, I often think of those I’ve left behind. I dream constantly and am often astonished when I wake to find I am in my cabin afloat, so real and vivid are the pictures I see.’
‘I do not find that surprising. You are evidently very attached to your family and I’m sure it is only natural to think of them, to miss them so much that they appear in your dreams.’
‘Yes, my dreams are always of happy times with family and friends. Never in Bath, I must admit. I am always at home in the rectory at Steventon running through the garden on a summer’s day.’
‘Jane talked of your old home in just the same way. Tell me, do you also miss it?’
‘Very much so and though my brother James lives there with his wife and daughter now, it is not the same. My sister Jane does not like to visit at all. It broke her heart to have to leave Hampshire. Just imagine, Miss Elliot, if you had to leave the home where you had always lived and see
someone else take possession of it.’
For a single moment, I could picture our house in Camden, my father standing at the gate waving me off, as I’d set out for Bath. But the image evaporated like the wispy clouds overhead and I couldn’t remember any more. A picture of Monkford Hall, like the print we had at home, replaced the vision of the townhouse. Only this time I could imagine it all in colour, see the mellow stone of the Jacobean manor house, smell the lavender bushes lining the paths of soft red brick in the formal gardens and catch the call of a peacock as it displayed its iridescent blue tail. I felt a connection with the place that I’d only ever dreamed of before and experienced a longing to go, to see my ancestral home.
‘I should think it the hardest thing in the world to have to leave one’s home, the place where you were born and where everyone knows you. And to leave friends behind must have been especially difficult for the Miss Austens.’
‘I have not experienced such hardship as my sisters. I went to Naval College when I was a small boy and soon got used to being absent from family life. I’ve spent more of my time away than at home, but for my sisters who only went away to school for a relatively short time, it has been much more difficult. They have borne it all with such cheerfulness knowing that it was our parents’ wish to retire here. Jane, in particular, has not enjoyed the transition from the country to the town. She pretends to be happy, yet she does not know how much I can tell her spirits to be affected.’
‘It must be a great comfort for her to have such a thoughtful brother who is so sensitive to her feelings.’
