CHAPTER TWO #2
He insisted on buying me lunch in the supermarket café to thank me, and after initially assuring him that he really didn’t need to do that, I eventually allowed myself to be persuaded.
It seemed to mean a lot to him, and actually, sitting there eating my ham and mustard mayo sandwich and sipping tea, I found myself thoroughly enjoying our conversation.
He talked about how he’d been a prize-winning golfer in his younger days.
‘My wife always said she was a golf widow. But after she retired from the health service, she was keener than I was to get out on the course!’ He smiled wistfully. ‘I miss the old girl a lot.’
‘Oh, Leonard.’ My heart ached for him. ‘What was your wife called?’
‘Lily. She was the best woman I ever knew. She died three years ago, and my old mates saw me through the worst times. But this bloomin’ pain in my hip means I haven’t been able to join them for a round of golf since well before Christmas.
’ He shook his head and laughed. ‘Listen to me. Boring you with all my troubles.’
I frowned at him. ‘Of course you’re not boring me, Leonard. And anyway, after you’ve seen the doctor and you’re feeling better, there’ll be no stopping you. You’ll be back on that golf course before you can say hole-in-one!’
As we were leaving the café, two guys dressed in work suits who I recognised from my schooldays were coming in and we smiled and said hello.
‘Where’s Darcy, then?’ quipped one of them, turning with a grin as they walked away.
‘Yeah. Rejected any men today, Lizzie?’ joked the other one.
‘Or judged them harshly?’
‘Oh, ha ha!’ I called after them, as I walked out into the January sunshine with Leonard. ‘The old ones are the best.’
We exchanged big, good-natured smiles.
Walking back to the car, I glanced sheepishly at Leonard and flicked my eyes to the sky. ‘They were both in my English class at school. We studied Pride and Prejudice and everyone thought it was absolutely hilarious that my name was Lizzie Bennet.’
Leonard looked a little confused.
‘Elizabeth Bennet? The heroine in the book?’ I prompted.
‘Oh.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve heard of Pride and Prejudice but I’ve never read it, I’m afraid. I’ve never really been into reading the classics.’
People always joked that with a name like mine, it wasn’t surprising I loved books.
And it had crossed my mind to wonder if my love for a certain romance author, who was writing in Regency times, did somehow stem from the decision Mum made while I was still in the womb.
Dad had bought her the complete works of Jane Austen for her birthday and with time on her hands during her maternity leave, Mum had gobbled up those sharp, witty social comedies that so cleverly exposed the manners, morals and marriage politics of the times.
Pride and Prejudice had always been her favourite.
It had been handy that our surname was Bennet, of course.
I was named Elizabeth (Lizzie for short) at Mum’s suggestion and with Dad’s approval, and when their middle daughter was born six years later, she was christened Kitty, another of the Bennet daughters in Pride and Prejudice.
After that, though, the Jane Austen tributes stopped – largely because Mum didn’t care for the names Jane, Mary or Lydia.
I also think Dad had decided enough was enough, and wanted to have a part in choosing at least one of his children’s names!
That was how my youngest sister came to be called Blaize.
‘So did your parents realise they’d be saddling you with the name of a Dickens character when they called you Elizabeth?’ Leonard was asking.
I chuckled as we got in the car. ‘Actually, it’s by Jane Austen.
And yes, it was Mum who wanted to call me Lizzie.
She’s a real Jane Austen fan. When the TV version of Pride & Prejudice came out, she was so smitten with Colin Firth emerging from the lake with his shirt plastered to his chest that she watched the whole series on VHS video about fifty times. ’
‘Ah, VHS. Wonderful things, videos. Of course, I remember when the first ones came out. Betamax, they were called.’
‘Oh, yes. My gran used to talk about those. She kept two huge boxes of them in her garage for decades until my lovely Dad persuaded her to get rid of them.’
Leonard laughed. ‘Funnily enough, I was up in the attic the other day and I spent a good hour looking through my collection of old video cassettes. Along with all the rest of the weird things that are up there. Lily, my wife, was mad keen on history and she loved old books.’ He gave a sentimental smile.
‘Come to think of it, she was fascinated by the Regency period of history, which I think may have been when your Jane Austen was alive?’
‘Yes, it was. But hang on, Leonard. You were up in the attic?’ I stared at him in horror.
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘I had to put the Christmas decorations back up there.’
‘But surely you need to be careful at –’ I stopped abruptly and cleared my throat.
Leonard’s hazel eyes twinkled. ‘At my age, you mean? Yes, you’re absolutely right, of course.
I should probably be a lot more prudent than I am.
But really, I can’t abide the idea that as we get older, we need to moderate our behaviour to such a drastic degree that in the end, we’re not really living anymore.
I always think that as long as I’m careful, there’s absolutely no reason at all to stop doing what I’ve always done. ’
I chuckled. ‘You’re a bit of a rebel, then, Leonard.’
‘Oh, I do like the sound of that.’
I started the car and drove off. And Leonard said, ‘So are you very close to your father?’
His innocent question pierced my heart. ‘I . . . yes. He was my absolute hero when I was little. I’m the eldest of three girls and I remember he’d sit me on this high stool in the shed – well, it seemed high at the time – and I’d watch him crafting things with wood.
He worked as an accountant but he’d much rather have been a carpenter.
Or a writer. He was always making up these wonderfully magical stories for us and reading them to us at bedtime. ’
‘He sounds like a very talented man.’
I nodded. ‘He was kind and gentle and he had a lovely dry sense of humour. But we . . . well, we lost him six months ago.’ I felt the habitual grief pressing in on me.
Leonard looked appalled. ‘Oh, I am sorry. Me and my big mouth. That must have been awful for you.’
I sighed. ‘It was pretty bad. Very sudden. A heart attack. But we have to pretend we’re fine for Mum’s sake. She can’t stand tears. She keeps herself busy all the time and shuts us down when we start to talk about the past and happier times.’
He nodded sadly. ‘People cope with grief in different ways.’
‘I suppose they do.’ I smiled at him. ‘You’re very wise, Leonard.’
‘No. I’m just old.’ He gave a sheepish grin. ‘Old enough to have seen it all before.’
When we arrived back at the café and got out, he paused before he went to his car. ‘My wife used to like reading romances set in the Regency period. I’ll have a scout around the bookshelves at home and see if I can find some for you.’
‘Thanks, Leonard. That would be great. I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!’ I smiled. ‘Sorry, that last bit was a quote from the great writer herself.’
‘Ah! Jane Austen? You’re probably quite the expert, are you?’
‘I know a few fascinating facts about her. Like for instance her dad George Austen was a clergyman and was considered a bit of a hottie among his congregation, being tall, dark and handsome. And . . . while Jane never married, she was briefly engaged – for less than twenty-four hours – to a man called Harris Bigg-Wither.’
He gave me a sidelong look. ‘You made that name up.’
I laughed. ‘No, honestly, I didn’t. The Austens were good friends of the family, often visiting them at their grand country estate.
Jane was close to his sisters. So one night, Harris proposed marriage to Jane.
But she must have had second thoughts because the following morning, she told him she couldn’t marry him, after all.
’ I shrugged sadly. ‘Marrying Harris Bigg-Wither would have given her status in society and would have made sure her family was secure financially. But Jane must have decided it was too high a price to pay, marrying a man she didn’t love. ’
‘How sad. Did she ever find love in her lifetime?’
‘Well, her sister Cassandra burned a lot of her letters after Jane’s death, which means so much valuable information about her life was sadly destroyed. So there’s actually very little known about Jane’s personal life. But there seem to have been some flirtations, at least.
‘She was fond of a young Irish lawyer called Tom Lefroy at one point, but the relationship never came to anything. I don’t think they could afford to marry, and Tom went back to Ireland.
She was also rumoured to have met someone on one of her holidays by the sea, but his identity isn’t known.
On the whole, I think people assume that she was wedded to her writing and her books were her babies. ’ I smiled and shrugged.
‘But you don’t think that?’
I chuckled. ‘Well, I obviously don’t know. But . . . well, I’d much prefer to imagine that Jane actually did have a great love in her life – one that we don’t know about.’
‘But she never married?’
‘No. But maybe . . . I don’t know . . . perhaps circumstances prevented her from marrying? She was so young when she died in 1817. Just forty-one.’ I grimaced. ‘Sorry, Leonard. I’m getting carried away here. I just love her books and I’m completely fascinated by Jane, the person.’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Don’t apologise. I’m finding it all very interesting. You’re never too old to learn new things.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Tell me, why did Cassandra burn Jane’s letters?’ Leonard asked.
‘Oh, well, no one really knows. It’s thought that Jane herself made Cassandra promise to get rid of them after her death.’ I smiled. ‘Which I think supports my theory that Jane had a secret life that has never come to light.’
Leonard’s eyes widened. ‘You think she might have wanted evidence of a secret love affair destroyed?’
‘Well, maybe. I know she wouldn’t have wanted to bring shame on her family. And it would have been considered a bit of a scandal in those days if Jane had loved a man but never married him.’
‘Maybe you’re onto something, Lizzie.’
I laughed. ‘I don’t think so. It’s all just the product of my wild imagination.’
‘Well, you never know. Where did she live? Jane Austen?’
‘Oh, various places at different stages in her life. But she was particularly fond of her last home, which was on her rich brother’s estate in Hampshire.
She lived at Chawton Cottage with her mother and sister Cassandra, and if you go there, you can see the little table and chair where she sat to write her novels.
The room had a squeaky door but Jane refused to have it fixed because she liked the fact that the noise alerted her to someone coming in, and she could hide her pages. ’
‘How interesting. Have you seen the cottage in Chawton for yourself?’
‘Yes. It’s open to the public and I’ve been a few times. But I’d love to go back again.’ I pointed at the café. ‘Sorry, Leonard, much as I’m thoroughly enjoying our conversation, I’d really better get back to work.’
He smiled. ‘Of course. Well, that was fascinating, my dear. Maybe I’ll read one of Jane’s novels some time. Although I have to say, I like a good Lee Child book myself. My sister’s boy gets them off for me, you know.’
‘Take care, Leonard. See you tomorrow?’
‘You surely will.’ He waved. ‘Thank you again, Miss Lizzie Bennet!’