No one who had ever seen Catherine Moreland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be a heroine. Her situation in life, the character of her father and mother, her own person and disposition, were all equally against her. – Northanger Abbey, by Jane Austen.
"I can't believe Taylor is abandoning me and the girls like this!"
George Knightly barely looked up from his book as his best and oldest friend in the world paced up and down the room in agitation. They had just come back from the wedding of their mutual friend Taylor Annis and their much older neighbour Mr Weston. The first thing George did once back in Hartfield was take his jacket off, pull off his tie, roll up his sleeves and flop onto his favourite armchair as Emma's housekeeper went to fetch some ice cold lemonade. Emma, however, was still dressed in her bridesmaid dress and was fuming over Taylor's decision to not only take a gap year but to leave Austen House and therefore leave Emma with one person's rent short.
"You only have yourself to blame," George pointed out, "as you keep boasting you were the one that brought them together with your wonderful matchmaking skills."
"There's no need to be sarcastic George," Emma snapped as she stood before him. "Fanny's tyrannical godparents refuse to let her live in a co-ed house. We need a trustworthy girl to take Taylor's spot and pay the last bit of rent or everyone is in trouble. Not just I but Lizzie, Ellen, Anne, and Fanny would be in terrible trouble with Dad if we didn't pay the rent properly. He has been kind enough to charge low rent but he can't be too lenient."
"Yes he still has to pay off the mortgage on the said house," George agreed. He couldn't believe it when Mr Woodhouse announced midway through Emma's first year that he could not bear having his daughter live in a dirty dorm and then immediately brought her a house that he ensured was spotless, safe, and unlikely to let the cold in. He then decreed that Emma and her friends could live there on low rent providing the friends were trustworthy and paid their rent in full and on time. "Do you know any girls looking for a room?" he asked.
"Miss Bates said something about her niece doing her Masters in London but I don't feel comfortable enough to invite her, Lizzie would have my head if I invited Caroline Bingley to stay, majority of the drama group have renewed their contracts, and I really don't know any other girls," Emma said as she started pacing again. "I need to find someone within days, George, Fanny is returning to London soon and if her godfather notices an empty room he may just pull her out of university!"
"I doubt Mr Bertram is that melodramatic," George snorted.
Emma shot him the filthiest look he had ever received from her. He calmly stared back at her refusing to allow her to intimidate him but not for the first time he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Emma was hiding from him when it came to Fanny Price and her adoptive family.
"I wouldn't panic over finding a new housemate anyway," George said, "you can just phone the student housing office and give them a list of requirements so they can then find you a new housemate. I'm sure there is some foreign exchange student who would rather live in a house than a residence hall."
George's view of the living room in Hartfield was suddenly obscured by pink frills as Emma flung her arms round his neck. "George, you are a genius!" she cried out cheerfully. "I don't know what I would do without you."
George knew exactly what Emma would do without him...get into a heck lot more trouble than she should.
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Cathy Moreland was crying.
No! Crying was not the proper word for it! She was sobbing in despair, hysterically releasing all her pain, worries, and fears in a waterfall of tears! Her life as she knew it was ruined! Her five hundred pounds long gone and she had nowhere to live for her second year! Oh what was she going to tell Mum and Dad? She couldn't go home in shame it would cause such ridicule amongst her siblings!
How could Isabella do this to her?
The woman behind the desk looked highly uncomfortable as Cathy continued to sob in despair. She had just explained her tragic and rather dramatic story of how she became homeless and the cold woman did absolutely nothing to comfort her in her time of need! Oh! How could no one be moved about her tale of being conned out of a deposit and only now finding out there is nowhere to go in the terrifying city of London? That her dearest and bestest friend in the whole world had not bothered to tell her she found somewhere else and forgotten about Cathy all together?
"Miss Moreland, you need to calm down," the woman said in what Cathy was sure to be a frosty tone, "there is very little I can do if you're crying and not listening to a word I say."
"B-b-but what am I going to do?!" Cathy wailed.
The woman sighed as she passed over the Kleenex box to Cathy as she continued to sob. "Miss Moreland if you just li-" the phone rang abruptly causing Cathy to jump and the woman looked instantly relieved as she hastily answered it. "Hello, Student Housing Office, how can I help you?" there is a long pause as the woman listened to the person on the other line. The longer the pause the more Cathy felt highly uncomfortable, the woman had taken to staring at her with a very strange look in her eyes, it was rather terrifying and Cathy desperately hoped she hadn't somehow managed to stumble upon a sex slave trade hiding within the University walls. "No need to say anymore Miss Woodhouse," the woman said cheerfully into the phone, "I just happen to have the perfect girl for you."
Oh no what on earth has Cathy gotten into now?!
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The Bennett household was noisy as it was every single day since Lizzie could remember. Her younger sister Mary was practising the piano, her mother was humming loudly and tunelessly to the music as she prepared dinner, Kitty and Lydia were bickering in the garden, and her father sighed deeply before turning up the radio even louder.
The only person who was not home right now was Jane but it won't be long till she arrived exhausted from another day's hard work at the only cafe in Meryton. Even then the chances of Lizzie seeing Jane for long were pretty much mute since Jane finally found her Prince Charming in Charlie Bingley and spent every possible waking second when she wasn't in work with him.
Though there had been far too many times when Lizzie has gone into the cafe to find Charlie sitting there with a stone cold cup of tea as he stares dreamily at Jane much to his sister's annoyance.
Lizzie shook her head and tried to focus back on her book when Kitty let out a shrill screech that echoed throughout the whole street never mind the house.
"MUM! TELL LYDIA TO GIVE ME BACK MY CD!"
"LYDIA CHASTITY BENNETT AND KATHERINE TEMPERANCE BENNETT THE PAIR OF YOU WILL STOP THIS NONSENSE RIGHT NOW OR I SHALL BANG YOUR HEADS TOGETHER!"
Lizzie sighed and quickly sloped off into her father's study as her youngest two sisters started to protest against their mother. As much as she loved the twins she often found them highly immature and stubborn to the point they never know when to quit. It was best to hide before this particular argument exploded into epic proportions.
Old war time tunes were playing loudly on the radio she grinned at the sight of her father rereading a favourite of his in his favourite armchair. He looked up when she shut the door firmly and smiled at her with that smile he reserved only for her. "Ah it's my Busy Lizzie, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"Just looking for a place to read," Lizzie grinned holding up her own book.
"I imagine you can hardly wait to rush off back to London," Mr Bennett said with a wry grin, "the busy city must seem peaceful and quiet without your sisters arguing over one thing or the other."
"Oh you have no idea," Lizzie groaned, "I love them. I really do, but they don't half irritate me. Honestly a CD? Surely there are more important things to fight over!"
"They will mature in time," Mr Bennett said as he made room for Lizzie on his armchair. Since she was four years old she would always sit in his armchair with him while she read or they listened to a drama on the radio. It had been their father/daughter time. "They are only fifteen. I recall a certain fifteen year old who would dress in nothing but black and vow to only date vampires. I must say I am glad you grew out of that phrase it would be awkward having a son in law who can't eat your mother's cooking."
"God, what was I thinking back then?" Lizzie moaned in embarrassment. She had almost forgotten her vampire phrase almost six years ago. So much has happened since then. "No, don't answer that! Obviously I wasn't thinking at all."
"Don't be so hard on yourself Lizzie," Mr Bennett said as he rubbed her arm reassuringly, "you were just a child back then. All children say silly things just like Kitty and Lydia are fighting over the silliest of things now. In six years time they will look back and wonder what on earth were they thinking though whether or not I still have my wits by then is an entirely different matter..."
Lizzie chuckled quietly at her father before she returned to her book. It was the perfect pastime to sit in the study listening to old music and stealing a cuddle from her Dad no matter how old she was. Eventually as usual the tranquillity was ruined by the loud knock on the door and her mother opening immediately after.
"There you are! Lizzie I need you to set the table, dinner will be ready in ten minutes so wash your hands as well, and you Mr Bennett! I bet your hands are covered in tobacco from your pipe!"
"As you wish darling," Mr Bennett said without looking up from his book.
Lizzie closed her and tucked it under her arm as she followed her mother out of the study and down the hall. "I cooked your favourite Lizzie," her mother twittered ahead of her, "Since it's your last night home I wanted it to be special." She stopped suddenly and Lizzie almost bumped into her when she suddenly turned round and caught her into a smothering embrace. "Oh my baby girl! Almost a university graduate! I am so proud but oh I do wish you spent more time at home. I do worry about you, what if something happened to you without me taking care of you?!"
"Mum!" Lizzie moaned as she struggled to escape her Mum. "You're strangling me!"
Sadly she knew this was going to be the first of many bone-crushing hugs until she was finally on that goddamn train.
Just sixteen hours and thirty three minutes to go.
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Fanny Price had forgotten what movie she was watching.
It was even worse than how it sounded since she was still watching it and she can't remember for the life of her what the plot was. Or even who the characters were and what they were saying right this very second. While this may sound like she has the attention span of goldfish there was a very good reason as to why she can't remember what movie she was watching.
And that very good reason was called Edmund Arthur Charles Philip Bertram.
Fanny smothered a sigh with her hand as she watched his shoulders slowly go up and down each time he breathed. They were very fine shoulders, not too broad or athletic but just perfect enough to steal away all her attention. As was his hair in fact; he had a little curl just at the back that brushed his collar every few seconds.
She was already distracted and this was just his back for Christ sake! (may God forgive her for taking the Lord's name in vain) he had a very beautiful front as well with soulful dark eyes, full lips, and perfect nose, and it was not just his looks that made him so beautiful but his personality as well. She has never known a kinder or gentler soul than Edmund though she was certain Emma would protest against that.
It was her last day in Mansfield Park and Edmund had very kindly insisted on spending it with her. His parents, also her godparents, had gone away on a long holiday, Aunt Norris had taken Mariah and Julia on a spa weekend, and so that left Tom, Edmund, and Fanny alone in the house. Tom was out with some friends but was coming back with pizza soon before watching some films with Edmund and Fanny and then was taking Fanny into London the next day and help her get settled back into Austen House.
Until then it would just be her and Edmund for another blissful hour.
She stretched out her arms and took in the space between the tips of her fingers and Edmund's back...
She only just had to lean forward and she could touch him.
A braver woman might just do that. She would go out with all the confidence in the world and use this moment alone as an advantage to seduce him into her own bed. But Fanny had never been the confident, brave, and seductive type, instead she was the meek, timid, little girl type and that meant she slumped back into the bed and closed her eyes to prevent any tears of dejection to escape.
She hoped Tom would come back sooner with the pizza.
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"Ellen, is that you dear?"
Ellen had barely closed the door when her mother called out to her. Then before she could reply Meg came running down the stairs and threw her arms round her neck. "Ellen! We heard from Marianne! She's in Ireland dancing and drinking! Doesn't that sound wonderful? I want to go to Ireland too!"
"Margret Iris Dashwood!" her mother in all her tired glory of a hard day's work came rushing into the hallway. "You let your sister in first before you throw yourself at her like a monkey and start screeching in her ear!"
"But Muuuum!" Meg moaned. "I wanted to tell her about Marianne!"
"No but Mums!" Mrs Dashwood snapped. "Go into the kitchen and set the table like a good girl."
Meg stomped into the kitchen with a loud huff proving herself to not be a good girl like her mother asked. Mrs Dashwood didn't mind though she just shared an exasperated smile with her eldest daughter.
"So Marianne phoned?" Ellen asked as took her shoes off.
"Just half an hour ago, it wasn't a long conversation it might have been better if she texted," Mrs Dashwood frowned. Marianne was nineteen and wildly out of control, she packed up a rucksack last year and had never been seen since. "She sounded like she was having fun. How was work?"
"The usual, I spent most of today filling out my transfer form again so I can head back to the branch near the campus," Ellen shrugged. "Then I was assured that my next pay check will be in tomorrow so I can help pay the-"
"Absolutely not," her mother interrupted her. "I don't need your help to pay the bills Ellen. With just me and Margret for majority of the year I have plenty of money left over in case a sudden expense came out of thin air. Besides you need that money yourself for rent and bills in London which is not as cheap."
"My loan and grants can cover that," Ellen pointed out. "Besides I just want to help you."
Mrs Dashwood softened as she reached up and cupped her daughter's cheek, "I know you do, dear, and I am so proud of you for it. You're such a responsible girl but I want you to have some fun in your life. Now go and wash up and come down for dinner, I cooked your favourite."
Ellen sighed as her mother left her in the hallway. She had heard this compliment and worry over and over again since she had finished her GCSE's and took a part time job to help out after her father died. The finances had taken a huge blow and their inheritance turned out not to be assured as they thought since their father never changed his insurance policy. Marianne got her fickle memory and nature from him.
She had no problem with being responsible because someone had to but sometimes she wishes she could just go out there and do things like Marianne.
She sometimes fears that she had long forgotten what fun was.
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Anne packed the last of her clothes into the suitcase and looked up at her room.
It was hideously bare compared to how it used to look. When she had been a little girl it was brightly coloured with over the top frilly curtains and a matching four poster bed, and filled to the brim with expensive toys that she had no need of. When money became a bit of an issue she used to help her Mum smuggle out the toys and sell them to help pay the electric bill. Now she just outright sold her Christmas gifts from her father just to pay for food in the house.
Not that anyone noticed they were so absorbed in their own lives. Her father with his reflection or gambling, her older sister with her health and children, and her younger sister with her reflection and many boyfriends.
The only person to pay the slightest attention to Anne was her aunt and even then she questioned to herself whether or not that was a good thing.
Anne sighed heavily as she zipped her case up and tided the last few things that she would have to pack in the morning before her aunt came to pick her up. Her room was so empty and lifeless and she can't help but wonder if the transformation from it's over the top glory to this was a reflection of her own life.
Once she had been ignorant and blissful about her life. She was little Annie Elliot the apple of her Daddy's eye but gradually after one realisation after another followed by the loss of her mother and then Fred...she had become Anne, sad, lonely, and lifeless Anne. Very easy to forget Anne Elliot.
Emma had never forgotten her. Neither had Lizzie, Ellen, George, Fanny, and Taylor. In fact Emma emailed once a week with the occasional snarky text about George's latest rude comment (and George did the same only about Emma), Lizzie wrote lovingly long letters complaining about her sisters and mother, Ellen emailed once every couple weeks due to her busy work life, Fanny also wrote letters though they were reserved as the writer, and Taylor had invited her to the wedding. She had to turn it down due to the inconvenience of the date just like the others apart from Emma had to.
But it led to the question whether or not this makes her a terrible person. Not her saying no to the invitation but the fact that these people felt more like family to her than her own biological family. Did the fact Austen House feel more like home than her own home make her a bad person?
She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer.
But she really wanted it to be a no.
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Cathy Moreland wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing.
Here she stood in front of a beautiful large house in a street full of large beautiful old buildings with nothing but her suitcase, laptop bag, and handbag. She might as well have MUG ME tattooed on her forehead. Then to top it all off she was going to live with strangers. She was going into another situation blind and what if she's conned out of all of her money times time? Oh the shame and horror! She would be homeless!
But then Austen House was so lovely! It had those beautiful large bay windows and was made of stone and had a lovely bright red door with a lion shaped knocker on it and a brass plate next to it with its name engraved on it. The front garden was small but covered in flowers blooming in bright and vibrant colours. She hadn't seen the inside yet and already she wanted to live here forever with a wonderful heroic husband and three children, oh and a dog.
She bit her lip nervously and wondered if she should risk rushing back at the office but then again they would be shut by now. The woman had locked the door right behind Cathy and ran off to her car before Cathy could ask her another question about this Emma Woodhouse and Austen House.
A blue car slowed to a halt in front of her and a stunning blonde leaped out of the car. The driver looked furious! Oh what if she just stumbled upon a lover's tiff? Did he just insult her or was she leaving him because he refused to make her a honest woman?
"Emma! Let me finish parking the car before you jump out!" the man shouted.
Emma ignored him as she stared directly at Cathy, she had very pale bright blue eyes that terrified the life out of Cathy (she was so sure they could see into her soul and condemn her to hell!), and then they brightened up as she smiled. "You must be Catherine Moreland, I'm Emma Woodhouse, your housemate this year," she then embraced Cathy all of the sudden. It was so lovely and overwhelming all at the same time! She smelt like perfume and vanilla mixed together.
"Please call me Cathy," Cathy managed to choke out as she hugged Emma back. "That's what everyone else calls me."
Emma pulled back and smiled at her before she pulled out a set of keys and took hold of Cathy's suitcase and dragged it up the pathway. She unlocked the door and revealed a long, dark, and rather dusty hallway.
"Welcome to Austen House, Cathy."