Brigid Coady - Persuading Austen

She turned and threw the dress onto a chair in the corner.

There. She’d started her charity shop pile.

Now if only she could throw her memories out as easily.

Annie carried on flicking the hangers. She had to have something she could wear that didn’t evoke memories or expose them.

There, that was what she’d wear. It was another black dress but it wasn’t really in the same genus as the previous one. The boat neck skimmed her collarbones, or where they should be. It fell straight to her knees. It was sleeveless, but a cardigan could deal with that, she thought.

Cassie would have to deal with her blending in but she looked business-like. Nothing that would remind Austen of the girl she had been.

Anne-onymous.

***

‘Hi, I’m Anne Elliot, producer,’ she said firmly in the mirror when she’d changed. The dress showed little skin. The pale skin on her arms glowed against it. She’d need a cardigan. She grabbed a black one and looked again.

Annie saw a grim-faced businesswoman looking back at her. A take no prisoners type. She snorted. If only they knew that – for certain people – she would collapse at the slightest confrontation.

‘You are a producer,’ she told her reflection. ‘Not Dad’s daughter or Immy’s sister. You are supposed to be there.’

Annie in the mirror didn’t look convinced.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

The sound of ‘Supercalifragilistic’ came from her phone.

Marie’s ringtone.

What crisis had happened now?

For once, Annie leapt on it as fast as possible, a potential escape route merely a swipe on a screen away. She fumbled with the phone as she stumbled over a pair of shoes she had kicked out of the way when they didn’t go with her dress.

‘Yes.’ Her voice was high and hopeful as she collapsed on the bed.

‘Annie, it is a disaster! Hector has fallen off his scooter and Angelique dialled one one one. They say he needs to be kept awake in case of concussion,’ Marie’s voice blasted at her.

‘Annie doesn’t mind coming over, Charlie – don’t be silly. You don’t mind do you? It’s just I’m supposed to be going to the party. I’m only asking, Charlie. Sheesh, she is my sister. I should know whether it is an imposition or not.’

‘I’ll come over.’ Annie looked at herself in the mirror. Nothing grim about her now.

Cass would understand, wouldn’t she? Family came first.

‘Get off, Charlie, you’re mussing my outfit.’ Annie listened to the scuffle that was happening as Charlie was obviously trying to get Marie’s phone off her.

The phone went dead.

A few seconds later it rang again but this time it was Kanye West’s ‘Gold Digger’.

‘Hello, Charlie.’ She smiled.

‘Look, Annie, she shouldn’t have asked.’ He sounded flustered and this accentuated the slight pomposity that seemed to come into his voice.

‘I don’t mind,’ Annie said feeling as light as candyfloss. ‘I’ll see you there in half an hour.’

There was no point in changing. She shoved another set of clothes and her wash stuff into a canvas tote bag and put on a pair of battered Vans.

Forty minutes later, after an argument with her Addison Lee driver due to her change of destination, she was seeing the back of Marie and Charlie out of the door whilst Charlie was still apologizing to her.

She tried not to grin too much at Hector’s misfortune.

But it was for the best, she thought as she watched a flash of silky brown leg get into the car.

The Musgrove girls would be big hits at the party. Annie was pleased that Louisa had landed the role of Kitty and was taking Henrietta as her plus one.

Was there really only five and six years between them and her? Sometimes it felt like decades, a completely different generation. Had she ever been that glossy? That fingerprint-free?

Annie in the mirror would be very grim next to them. Even if anyone noticed her at all.

‘I’m going to pull Austen. I’m the oldest so it should be me,’ Louisa said loudly from the car, swinging her hair over her shoulder and winking at her sister.

‘Nah, you’re over the hill, you old bag. He’ll want someone with less miles on them,’ Henrietta said.

‘Hey, you’re the one with a boyfriend,’ Louisa said.

‘It’ll be fine; he’s one of my free passes. Robbie and I made a list last Christmas. His is Diana Tomlinson.’ She laughed as she pulled Louisa’s cheek to hers and, phone out, took a selfie.

How did they do that? Annie thought as she watched them in the car and looked over at Marie who was fussing around getting in.

She shuddered.

The only way she and Marie would press cheeks was if they were trying to get through the same small space. And let’s be honest, Annie would let her go first.

And Imogen?

Annie shook her head.

She always looked at the Musgrove girls as if they were an alien species. In fact the whole of the Musgrove family seemed foreign.

It was so different from hers. Sometimes she felt like David Attenborough hiding in the undergrowth, and trying to work out what made them tick.

And then with an almost silent purr the car pulled away, laughter trickling back, until they turned a corner.

They were gone.

Annie stood on the doorstep and stared at the place the red tail-lights had been.

By the end of the night, one of them really could have pulled Austen …

She took a breath, ignoring the way it shuddered.

‘Okay, Hector,’ she said turning back into the house and closing the door. She looked at her heavy-eyed nephew, his cheeks red and raw from crying. ‘A Pixar moment?’ She picked him up gently and carried him through to the living room.

Living in Pixar’s world seemed better and more fulfilling than her reality.

***

‘He is gorgeous,’ Louisa said as she yawned through brunch the next day. ‘And his eyes …’

Henrietta sighed in agreement as she dug into her scrambled eggs.

‘And his really cute friendship with his co-star, what’s his face …’ Henrietta flapped her hand.

‘Harry Harville. You know he plays the sidekick in Ten Peaks . How can you forget, Henry? He was all cuddly with his husband.’ Louisa waved a fork at Annie.

‘I know that. He’s married to Lewis Deakin, the record producer,’ Henrietta butted in and mumbled through a mouthful of egg. ‘I think it is great that Austen isn’t afraid to be so close with an openly gay couple,’ she finished.

Annie tried not to roll her eyes at Henrietta’s gaucheness. Sometimes the Musgrove girls showed their white upper middle class background, as if they looked at anyone who wasn’t like themselves as exhibits in a zoo.

Annie carried on helping herself to some bacon and moved to sit at the table.

Silence reigned for a few moments, until the sound of heavy feet came down the stairs. For someone who was consistently on a diet and didn’t carry a lot of weight, Marie could make an elephant seem light-footed.

‘Austen said he remembered you,’ Marie said as she walked into the kitchen without saying good morning. She picked up a piece of bacon from the pile that their housekeeper had made and left warming on the top of the range.

‘No, I’m on a diet. If I could just have my shake?’ Marie sat down while still chewing on the bacon but waving away the offer of a full English that Angelique was about to make.

‘Yes, Annie. He said he remembered you from Stratford,’ Marie carried on.

The piece of sausage Annie had been in the process of eating got stuck in her throat. She swallowed. The sausage went down but the lump remained.

Her heart raced and the fork she held slipped in her now sweaty hands and fell on her plate.