Mr. Darcy Goes Overboard (8 page)

It was this sight that met Mrs Bennet and her daughters on their return to the top of the tower.

'Mr Collins!'

Even Mrs Bennet was shocked by the ardour of Lizzy's suitor. She had not expected the clergyman to be so forward in his expression of love as to be already on top of her daughter. How times had changed.

'Madam!' said Mr Collins, getting up hastily. 'It is not what it seems! Oh my! Oh my!' And he hurried to the staircase, made his way down as fast as he could, and was surprised as he walked out into the sunshine at the bottom to be hit on the head by a parachuting Malcolm.

'Malcolm had a lovely descent!' called Lydia, giggling from the top of the tower.

'I, er...' Mr Collins left, alone, confused, and unsure whether his proposal had been a success or not. He decided to go and sit on a bench and gaze out to sea until the beating in his breast had subsided and he could ask Malcolm for advice.

***

'Well, Lizzy?' asked Mrs Bennet as they descended the winding stairway.

'I will not marry him, Mother!'

'You certainly will.'

'I shall not.'

'Let's see what your father has to say about this!'

As they left the churchyard they were fortunate enough to bump into Mr Bennet.

'Lizzy will not marry Mr Collins!' announced a furious Mrs Bennet.

'Is this true, Lizzy?'

'I certainly will not!'

'Make her marry him, Mr Bennet! Think of the inheritance.'

'I will not!'

'If you do not, I will never speak to you again!' cried Mrs Bennet.

'Lizzy, my dear,' said Mr Bennet seriously, 'an unhappy situation lies before you. You are on the verge of losing one or other of your parents. If you do not marry Mr Collins, your mother will never speak to you again. If you do marry Mr Collins, I will never speak to you again.'

And with that, Mr Bennet walked on, leaving Mrs Bennet furious, the Bennet girls in peals of laughter, and Lizzy much relieved.

Mr Collins spent the rest of the morning on the wooden bench overlooking pontoons where various holiday boats and fishing vessels were moored and which, fortunately for him, was already inhabited by Charlotte Lucas, who proved to be a friendly ear. News filtered through by way of passing Bennet girls whispering in Lottie's ear that Lizzy had definitely refused Mr Collins, and he sat sulking. When Lizzy, herself, happened to walk by, he looked the other way, ignoring her. Lizzy was, in fact, on the way with her sisters to North Sands, where they were hoping to see some more of the red-and-yellow trainee lifeguards, and Mr Wickham in particular. As good fortune would have it, Wickham was there and delighted to see Lizzy.

'Sorry I didn't make the Harbour Swim--but, you know with Darcy around, who knows what might have happened. Best to keep out of shark-infested waters!'

There was the evocative sound of Vivaldi's
Four Seasons
'Allegro' from Jane's phone. Jane went over to the rock pools to read the message. Lizzy could tell at once it was not good news and excused herself from the luscious Wickham.

'It is from Cazza,' said Jane. 'Look.'

Hey, Jane--jtlyk all off to London 2 party. Not back for yonks. Chas in lve with Darcy's sister, Georgiana... wedng on way?!! Muchos love, Cazza :)

'The cow!' Lizzy could not help herself. 'She just wants to take Bingley away from you. I could strangle her with her own Boden tights!'

Charlotte Lucas's generous ear to Mr Collins had, in Lizzy's mind, a most startling outcome. The two girls had taken the topper out and were enjoying a blustery sail about the estuary when Charlotte felt the moment had come to confide in her best friend.

'Dear Lizzy...'

'Ready about!' called Lizzy.

'I have some news for you,' continued Lottie as she prepared to go about.

'Lee ho!' shouted Lizzy, pushing the tiller hard away from her and swinging the boat into wind and onto a port tack.

'...some news which may surprise you,' continued Lottie as she ducked under the boom. 'I am engaged to Mr Collins.'

On this pronouncement of such monstrous news, the topper gybed alarmingly as Lizzy uncharacteristically lost control, and both girls were tossed into the sea. The little topper had turned turtle, and as the girls busied themselves righting the craft, the extraordinary conversation continued.

'Engaged to Mr Collins?' cried Lizzy, astounded. She stood on the upturned hull and, with Lottie's assistance, managed to pull the boat so that the mainsail came up and lay flapping on the water. The news was so astonishing to Lizzy and the physical exertion so great that, standing on the centreboard and heaving on the side of the boat, she could not help crying out, 'Lottie--impossible!'

As she gave true vent to her feelings, Lizzy simultaneously pulled with such vehemence that the boat righted itself too fast and went directly over onto the other side.

'No, I am afraid not,' said Lottie, swimming round to help Lizzy pull the boat upright again. 'I see what you are feeling. You must be surprised--only this morning Mr Collins was wishing to marry you. But I am not romantic.' Lizzy and Lottie righted the boat at last, toppled in, and sat with the sail flapping as Lottie tried to explain to her astonished friend. 'He is not a sensible man, nor agreeable; his society is irksome, but all I ask is for a comfortable home; and considering Mr Collins's situation, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.'

'But what about your career? University?'

'My dear Lizzy. My purpose for university would be only to secure a career or a husband. Both are not necessary, and indeed, often cancel each other out. Since I already have the husband in hand, I have no need for university or career.'

Lizzy was defeated. She pulled at the sheet, set the boat on a starboard tack, smiled as best as she could at her friend, and replied kindly, 'Undoubtedly, my dear Charlotte.'

As they sailed past The Ferry Inn, they saw Mr Collins enjoying a Bloody Mary. He smiled at Lottie and blew her a kiss, only briefly glancing, with a triumphant smirk, at Lizzy. How sweet was a jilted lover's revenge!

Sir William Lucas was triumphant in Lottie's engagement. Mrs Bennet was furious. Lady Lucas enjoyed her visits to 3 Island Street all the more, since in time her daughter would inherit it. Mr Collins--the cause of all the upset--departed for Rosings to tell Lady Catherine the good news.

Hey, Jane.--jtlyk having g8 time in London. Chas and Georgiana v close! Wedng bells rngng! Muchos love, Cazza :)

'Yo, gals! Why the miserable faces?'

The jolly smile of Wickham revived the spirits of Jane and Lizzy as they sat dangling their legs over the quayside, trying to catch crabs with bits of bacon strung to fishing lines whilst pondering this latest evil missive from Cazza Bingley. Jane was still determined to think well of her; Lizzy could only think ill and was sure Chas was still as crazy as ever about her sister. But it was strange, she must confess, for Bingley to have left so suddenly and without even saying good-bye.

'Caught one!' cried Lizzy, diverted by an encrusted crab that had just grabbed hold of her bait. Wickham gallantly attempted to remove the crustacean from her hook but in doing so was pinched viciously.

'Why! It's a damn Darcy of a crab!' he cried, letting go. And so the conversation turned to Mr Darcy, what an appalling cad he was, and how nobody, apart from Jane, who could criticise nobody, had a good word to say about him. In short, he was universally despised.

Mrs Bennet's misery was soon to be diverted by the arrival of her brother, Mr Gardiner, his wife, Mrs Gardiner, and a lively bunch of nephews and nieces. Aunt G was a great favourite of Jane and Lizzy, and despite their mother's complaining how both had been nearly married--or at least had a boyfriend--and now neither were and neither had even a boyfriend, they managed to escape from time to time for a session at the lively Fortescue Inn, where over a bottle of blush and a game of pool, they talked of university options. After the merits of Durham, Bristol, Exeter, York, St Andrews, Oxford, King's College, London, Edinburgh, Plymouth, Bath, and Brighton had been discussed at length, the last ball potted, and Jane had left temporarily to wash her hands, the talk turned to love.

'But Bingley is completely and utterly crazy about her, Aunt G!' said Lizzy, sitting down at a small wooden table and drawing up another stool for her aunt. Lizzy was anxious for her wise aunt to understand the situation clearly.

'Many a young man declares himself crazy about a pretty girl one week and then another the next,' demurred Aunt G.

'Yes, but this is the real thing,' insisted Lizzy, leaning forward. 'He is insanely in love. Anyone could see that. He hangs on Jane's every word, follows her around like a devoted spaniel, ignores all the other Salcombe babes.'

'So why has he abandoned her?'

'Because his sister and the despicable Darcy think she is not good enough for him. They have stolen Bingley away!'

Aunt G gasped at this revelation, recovering only just in time to welcome Jane back to the table, where the evening took a very merry turn as they were joined by the jovial Wickham. Another bottle of blush led to some jolly banter. Aunt G could not fail to notice the glow that passed between Lizzy and Wickham. Common ground in knowledge of the late Mr Darcy was found between Wickham and Aunt G, which led to much discourse about Darcy's father--a fine old gentleman both agreed--and of his proud, ill-natured boy, of whose characteristics Wickham was quite clear, and Aunt G had to search her memory banks to see if she could recall what the boy was like, but was guided by Wickham until at last she did vaguely recall that he might have been proud and ill-natured. Last orders were called, and the four returned in a slightly unsteady state to 3 Island Street for coffee, where lively conversation continued until the early hours.

Mr Collins returned. He had the blessing of Lady Catherine de Brrr to marry and was keen to get on with things. Although there had already been four weddings and a funeral at Salcombe church that week, the vicar, once assured by Sir William Lucas that all the correct procedures had been completed, agreed to squeeze in one more wedding for Mr Collins and his fiancee. After the ceremony, the glowing groom whisked his young bride away to Hunsford. Throughout the whole affair, Lizzy tried to be happy for her friend, but she actually felt sick. How could Lottie have sacrificed herself in such a way? Still, they promised to text regularly, though Lizzy felt the intimacy had gone out of the relationship with such a barrier as Mr Collins between them.

Meanwhile, romance for the Bennet girls was seriously on the slide. Jane had buzzed off to London with Aunt G and Uncle G. She had called in on Cazza, who was courteous but cool and said Chas was busy with Darcy. Poor Jane was under no illusion that she had been dumped. Lizzy noticed Wickham's attentions had moved on, too, to Mary King, a young lady who had just inherited a pink-hulled speedboat. Lizzy's fortunes were no match for this. Like her dear sister, she, too, had been dumped.

Yet startling news was to follow. Lady Catherine had condescended to offer the lodge of her magnificent Salcombe holiday home, 'Rosings on the Rocks', to the newly wed Mr and Mrs Collins as a honeymoon holiday destination. Lottie and Mr Collins would be returning to Salcombe to stay in 'Little Rosings on the Rocks', and Lady Catherine herself would be installed in the main house. Lizzy, Sir William, and Maria Lucas, Lottie's sweet but dim sister, had been invited to stay for a few days at Little Rosings. Lady Catherine felt it would do them good to get out of the damp lowlands of Island Street, into the uplands of Cliff Road, and besides, she wanted to inspect them.

Lizzy packed her blue-and-white Quba bag and set off in
Angelica
with Sir William, Lady Lucas, and Maria. Mr Bennet came with them so they could disembark on Rosings on the Rocks' private jetty and he could return in the boat. Sir William kept a constant flow of conversation going during the voyage, but fortunately, his words were swept away by the breeze or drowned out by Maria's squawks every time water splashed over the bows. After landing, they waved farewell to Mr Bennet and started the trudge up the steep, rocky path to Little Rosings on the Rocks--only a short distance, but by the time they arrived, Sir William was sweating profusely. Standing before the little lodge house were the honeymoon couple, suitably dressed in swimwear--Mr Collins, bucking the Salcombe trend for swim shorts, was clad in a skimpy Speedo, and Lottie looked attractive in a delightful stripy all-in-one from Crew. Suddenly, Mr Collins caught sight of something, or someone, and ran helter-skelter down towards their private jetty. A sleek black Phantom speedboat appeared from nowhere and skidded to a stop at the jetty, drenching him in spray from head to toe. A small exchange between the driver and Mr Collins occurred, and the boat sped off again. Mr Collins turned, beaming, to welcome his guests and to announce with great delight the marvellous news. Lady Catherine had condescended to invite them all to Rosings on the Rocks for dinner that very night.

Poor Maria was in a state of great anxiety as she rummaged through her kit bag, desperately trying to find something suitable to wear for the evening's entertainment. Lizzy was pleased with her recent Jack Wills purchases: a pink-and-white-striped shirt, which she wore with the sleeves turned up; a 100 percent cotton, mini-fit, antique denim skirt, which sat low on her hips; a thick, heavily buckled leather belt. Mr Collins was happy that she looked, if anything, a little relaxed for the occasion, as it was important not to outdazzle Lady Catherine.

Rosings on the Rocks was everything Mr Collins had boasted. Set in a concrete frame with steel bracing, it had an excess of glass-curtain walling with unrivalled views of the estuary.

'The structure,' explained Mr Collins, 'is expressed as an ornamental order, the style high-tech modern. It has an unapologetic modern facade, combining a jagged profile in an elegant concrete frame that is braced by gunmetal grey and stainless steel rods oozing an airy spirit full of honesty but not lacking in bravado.'

Lizzy was amazed by Mr Collins's erudite description and, for one horrible moment, thought she might have misjudged him, but Lottie soon explained: 'A speech he has practised for some time,' she whispered. '
Architecture Week
magazine. Different building but surprisingly appropriate.'

At that moment, a tall, powerful woman appeared on the balcony. She was dressed in skintight black jeans, a black strappy top embroidered with 'Brrr' in diamante. Her dyed blond hair was piled high, her nails painted blood red, her feet adorned with high-heeled golden slippers.

'Collywobbles, dahling!' she called. 'Here you are at last and with all your little friends. Come on in! The Bloody Marys are waiting!'

Lady Catherine condescended to kiss each and every one of her guests on each cheek--twice, as Mr Collins recalled.

'Now you must be little Maria,' she cooed. 'What a babe! Lottie, dahling--you never told me your little sis was so cute!' And to the delight of Mr Collins, she went on in this vein, welcoming all her guests.

'Now, Collywobbles--who is this?'

'Miss Elizabeth Bennet.'

'And how old are you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?'

'You surely would not expect a lady to reveal her age, madam,' replied Lizzy.

'Oh! Quite a feisty number, I see,' retorted Lady Catherine, maintaining her good humour even if she did feel put out by Lizzy's reply. 'Come on. Let's eat. We have lobster tonight. I have my own pot, of course. Does your family have a pot, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?'

'No. I am afraid we do not have a pot. And please do call me Lizzy.'

'Not a pot! I pity you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet!'

At that moment, Lizzy noticed a rather large, overweight girl lazing around on a leather poof. To her surprise, she was introduced as Miss de Brrr. Her eyes were fixed on her Wii, and she failed to join in conversation once all evening. Lizzy smiled to herself. She felt Miss de Brrr would indeed make the perfect partner for a certain gentleman.

Mr Collins was in his element admiring the view, the golden statues of King Charles spaniels with their diamante collars, the Maria Theresa chandelier, the abstract paintings by Gotspod, and being quite overcome--and off-balanced--by the black-and-chrome revolving stools that they sat on to eat cracked lobster from a high chrome-and-blackened glass table.

'It's all bulletproof, of course,' pronounced Lady Catherine as Mr Collins admired the glass curtain for the umpteenth time.

'And I always wear a bulletproof vest,' she continued. 'In my position, you can never be too careful. Do you wear a bulletproof vest, Miss Elizabeth Bennet?'

'Rarely.'

'That is very foolish.'

'I find it hard to accommodate under a bikini. Do you wear a bikini, Lady Catherine?'

The audacity of this remark made other members of the party draw sharp intakes of breath.

'You are a bold and foolish girl, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but I will excuse you this once, as you clearly are new to such company as occurs at Rosings on the Rocks.'

An awkward silence followed, broken only by Maria getting a small amount of shell stuck in her throat. She began to cough and then choke. She fell from her rotating stool and lay on the white carpet, spluttering and gasping for breath.

'She is choking,' remarked Lady Catherine.

'It must be a bit of shell stuck in her throat!' exclaimed Lizzy in great anxiety and leaping off her stool to assist.

'It could not be shell,' declared Lady Catherine. 'Our lobsters never have shell that would make you choke. It must be something else. Perhaps one of those cheap baubles she is wearing round her neck has come loose, and she has swallowed one. Yes. That is what is making her choke. Believe me. I am always right in these matters.'

By this stage, Maria was unable to speak and had stopped coughing and, more alarmingly, stopped breathing. Lizzy proceeded to carry out the Heimlich manoeuvre--giving her five subdiaphragmatic abdominal thrusts, alternating with five back blows to remove the obstruction--whilst the others continued with their cracked lobster and discussed what Maria might or might not have swallowed, with Lady Catherine continuing a powerful argument why it could not be one of her lobsters at fault. As Maria slipped into unconsciousness, Lizzy turned her on her back, requested a 999 call--though nobody heard--and placing the heel of her hand just above Maria's waistline, proceeded to give four upward thrusts. Lady Catherine was just saying, yet again, how her lobsters could not have caused such a problem--in fact, they were renowned for being the safest lobsters in the estuary--when there was a horrible gurgling sound from Maria and a cough that seemed to come from her very soul. A hard, brittle object shot out of her mouth and landed with a tinkle on Lady Catherine's plate. It was quite clearly a piece of lobster shell.

'You see!' cried Lady Catherine in triumph. 'I was right. It
is
lobster shell but not from one of
my
lobsters! You must have had a lobster sandwich for lunch, Maria, and a bit of shell got lodged in your teeth and you just happened to swallow it while you were eating
my
lobster!'

Lady Catherine pincered the offending shell between two sharp red nails and held it aloft for closer inspection.

'Most definitely not one of my lobsters! I knew I was right. I always am in such matters. Now who would like some Rosings on the Rocks ice cream for pudding? We have quite the best ice cream you will have ever tasted. It is made for me by Ollie James, a chef of great repute, who heard me discussing my ice cream one day and was so impressed he begged me for the recipe and now sells it by the boatload.'

By this stage, Maria had regained consciousness, and Lizzy was advising her to rest. But Maria, though a frightened rabbit by nature, was also very fond of ice cream and recovered sufficiently to join the party for pudding.

Thus a successful evening was rounded off with much thanks from Mr Collins and his party and an announcement by Lady Catherine on what the weather would be on the morrow.