An Amendment: Cathy is no longer allowed to do any sort of cooking duty – that includes the one night a week rule, baking for charity sales, and anything more than fixing herself a sandwich or making some toast.
Unless we are in severe need for some more very good doorstoppers (honestly Cathy don't worry, George is fine now) - The Rules of Austen House by Ellen Dashwood with Commentary by Emma Woodhouse.

Rehearsal was a disaster...again.

In all fairness half the cast had now grasped how to get their tongues round the various odd words and phrases that made up Shakespeare's magical and poetic language. However, Emma had announced earlier that evening that they will work on blocking, not only did several people crash into one another with their heads still in their scripts but Ben dropped Cathy five times...once he managed to bash her head on a table. Lizzie and Emma was furious, so were the other cast members but only because it meant they had to do the scene again, and Ben was in the doghouse figuratively speaking.

"Just get yourself an orange juice or something," Lizzie ordered Cathy as they entered the pub, "I don't think you should drink after banging your head on the table like that. Perhaps we should take you to the hospital in case you have a concussion?"

"I'm fine!" Cathy protested. "I've hit my head plenty of times and never had a concussion before!"

"You've hit the back of your head on the edge of the table before?" Lizzie raised a sceptic eyebrow.

Cathy flushed in embarrassment. One of the more comical scenes in the play is when Celia is being carried on stage by the fool alongside with some bags, to accommodate future bags Emma decided to copy the movie and recent productions by having Ben give Cathy a piggyback, therefore Cathy somehow managed to slide off Ben's back, land on the table, and her head swung back right into the edge making a loud – and rather sickening – bang. Fortunately for her it had not been the first time this has happened the very last time her brother had given her a piggyback had ended exactly the same way...

Her mother called her the clumsiest child in Britain for a reason, you know.

"How are you still alive?" Lizzie muttered obviously translating Cathy's silence and pink flushed cheeks as a yes.

"Dad calls me a miracle child," Cathy mumbled feeling her cheeks grow hotter.

"So can you turn water into wine?" an amused voice laughed behind them.

Cathy wasn't sure if she could blush anymore than she was now if it was possible her head might spontaneously combust she was so hot and red. She probably looked like a traffic light. Oh the shame.

"You're teasing me again, Mr Tilney!" she scolded furiously.

"You make it so very easy and an enjoyable task," Harry grinned, "how is your head? Emma just regaled me the whole tragic tale, should I pray for you tonight?"

"And every other night until this cursed play is over with," Cathy replied rather dramatically, "I am certain I shall never remember my lines!"

"I am sure you'll be fine," Harry argued, "you have a superb memory when it comes to literature and that's all what this is really."

Cathy smiled weakly back. She wished she had his striding confidence about this but quite frankly she sucked, in fact she sucked on so many levels that she was certain on opening night Shakespeare will come back from the dead to smite her down for butchering his beautifully composed prose and verses...oh god she was going to die. She was going to die and burn in hell for butchering Shakespeare!

Harry seemed to sense that she was troubled since he quickly changed the topic. "Are you going to contribute to the bake sale later this week?"

"Oh yes!" Cathy enthused. "I will be helping Fanny bake fairy cakes and a few other treats. We were thinking of rock cakes since they are the easiest to bake and I've never been the greatest cook around."

"That's an understatement," Lizzie muttered under her breath.

Cathy pretended she hadn't spoken at all while wondering if she could get away with stomping on her so called friend's foot.

"I'm sure you're not that bad," Harry said encouragingly.

Lizzie burst into a coughing fit which Cathy took full advantage of by hitting her hard on the back. "Thank you," she said to Harry.

"Would you like a drink?" Harry asked suddenly. "Then you can tell me all about rehearsal."

"I would love that!" Cathy cried out brightly.

She stepped past Lizzie to follow Harry to the bar when she heard Lizzie mutter to herself, "What am I? Invisible?"

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The kitchen smelt heavenly.

After a very long day of baking Cathy felt very satisfied, she and Fanny made a fantastic team, Fanny told her what to do and she did it efficiently and while their first batch was baking they washed up and started working on the second batch, and then repeat. It got a little dull after batch five and Cathy very mischievously spiced it up by flicking flour into Fanny's hair. Fanny surprisingly retaliated with full force and blew flour in Cathy's face.

Neither Lizzie nor Ellen was impressed with the mess they made in the kitchen and they were forced to clean up once more before they even managed to make a mix for their sixth batch.

Now they had eight batches of four different kinds of cakes – fairy cakes, chocolate cupcakes, rock cakes, and, well all right they made a biscuit, chocolate chip cookies. The second batch of rock cakes was made by Cathy herself without any direction from Fanny. In fact she had managed to do it all while Fanny was cleaning herself up in the bathroom! And for once they weren't burnt or sunken or something dreadful!

"Oh what is that heavenly smell?" George moaned as he wandered into the kitchen. Any other strange guy and Cathy would have shrieked about what a pervert he was and demand to know how he got into her kitchen but almost two months of living in Austen House had made Cathy accustomed to George wandering in whenever he wanted. He did, after all, own the only spare key available. "It's making me hungry," he said reaching out for a rock cake.

Fanny blushed at the praise while Cathy merely watched with hopeful eyes. The cake he had just picked up was one of the ones she had baked by herself. Everything seemed to have slowed down like an episode of Merlin when they wasn't much to it so they make half the things slow motion to seem dramatic when they were really playing for time. For what felt like five minutes George slowly moved the rock cake to his mouth, opened it wide, and took a huge bite into the cake –

The sound he suddenly made was so uncharacteristic of him that Emma flew down the stairs with a shoe in hand thinking that one of the girls had seen a spider.

(Can you believe that Emma and Lizzie were the only ones that were not terrified of spiders? Cathy has never known someone so unnaturally brave before.)

"Where is it? What happened? Are you okay?"

"My tooth," George whimpered slightly.

"I'm sorry!" Cathy wailed. "I thought I did it perfectly this time!"

"What the hell did you put in that cake, actual rocks?"

"I don't know what I did wrong!"

Emma picked up one of the rock cakes Cathy had baked and dropped it on the floor. They all winced when it made a loud cracking noise and a crack appeared along one of the sides of the cake. "Jesus Christ, Cathy," Emma said in awe, "I think you just created a new weapon."

"I don't know how!" Cathy cried out. "Are you okay George?"

"I think I'm dying," George bemoaned.

"Honestly," Emma said somewhat scathingly, "and you call me a drama queen. Come on, best get you to the dentist and get your teeth checked out."

"I'm sorry!"

As Emma led out the groaning in agony George, Lizzie and Anne were coming home from a research session in the library, Lizzie rolled her eyes at George's antics but followed to help locate Emma's other shoe while Anne continued in the kitchen.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly.

"I almost killed George!" Cathy wailed suddenly bursting into tears. Why was she so useless in the kitchen? She was never going to impress anyone! She was going to be a running joke to everyone – the girl who can't cook for toffee! She'll never manage to keep herself alive. Oh my god how was she going to survive? She was doomed forever to live with her mother unless she manages to find a superman who can cook, clean, and do all the DIY stuff. "I'm a failure!"

Fanny gave her a wary one armed hug as Cathy sobbed helplessly into her shoulder and Anne tried to tell her comforting things like, 'no you're not a failure' and 'I'm sure the next time you'll do better, remember practise makes perfect' eventually she did calm down and happily accepted Anne's tissue to blow her nose.

"Here," Anne said passing her another tissue, "you have some flour on your cheek."

Oh the shame!

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Cathy was managing the cake stall with Harry Tilney.

Yes, she was very much on cloud nine – or she would be if it wasn't for the fact someone told him all about the disaster with George last night. It had only been half an hour, and if it wasn't for the fact she didn't want to damage his pretty face, she might snap and punch him for all the teasing he was doing.

"You'll be giving poor Hagrid a run for his money with your rock cakes," he chuckled.

"It's not funny!" Cathy wailed. "I could have killed George!"

"I doubt that," Harry said gently though he was still grinning like a maniac, "I reckon you did the only damage possible with those cakes."

"I'm never going to be able to cook," Cathy moaned, "I'm so useless."

"Now I wouldn't say that," Harry reprimanded her, "you are a wonderfully intelligent girl with different talents. It hardly matters if you can cook or not since it's not a career you want to pursue."

"But what about in the future when I want children? How will I ever be able to feed them if I keep making something dangerous or burn the house down or just you know something stupid?"

"Then you're quite fortunate that I'm a reasonable cook, aren't you?"

It took her a while to realise what he had meant and when she did she flushed a bright pink that caused him to laugh not unkindly at her but enough to convince her that he had been teasing once more.

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It was now Halloween and the girls (plus George) were crowded in the living room ready for their spook fest. Snacks were laid out, pitchers of spooky cocktails (with the recipes nicked from pub walls) were made, and the girls were already comfortable. Cathy hogged an armchair while holding onto a cushion tightly while Lizzie, Anne, Fanny, and Ellen was squishing themselves onto the sofa.

After last year's horror flicks sending Fanny into a fight of fright they weren't going to take any chances and leave her sitting on her own.

George found he had to make do with the floor and once he got himself somewhat comfortable he suddenly found himself a lapful of Emma. "Comfortable?" he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"Very," Emma said cheekily. "Now I promise you all you'll be scared...but not too scared," she added hurriedly for Fanny's sake, "it's quite moderate in the gore department I promise."

"It's not about a certain horrific rock cake that has been haunting me for the last few days, is it?" George grinned – and then grimaced, it was still a bit too painful.

"Sorry!" Cathy squeaked behind her cushion.

Lizzie kicked his back, "it's your own fault, you just had to help yourself without asking," she pointed out.

"Let's just watch the films, yeah?" Emma jumped in before any arguing started.

The first film had been mildly boring in George's opinion and so was the second one that was almost drowned out by the pitter patter of the rain and the girl's giggling at the over the top acting in what was becoming a rather crap film. Then finally as most of the snacks were gone and the only thing left in the pitchers were dregs they were stuck in on a truly terrifying film. George got the chills and was unable to tear his eyes from the screen. He held onto Emma a little more tightly than usual and he could barely make out Cathy hiding further and further behind her cushion from the corner of his eye. His senses were heightened particularly his sense of sound as he could hear Fanny inhaling sharply, Ellen starting to chew on her lip, Lizzie tapping her fingers nervously, and Anne scraping her nails into the upholstery. He could feel Emma squeezing his arm and then-

BANG!

The girls all screamed and George let out a very manly yelp.

"W-what was that?" Lizzie choked out trying to sound her usual calm and witty self. She failed obviously. "It sounded like it was coming from outside."

"Maybe it's a serial killer!" Cathy shrieked behind her cushion.

Fanny moaned quietly and George was pretty sure if he turned to look at her she would be burying her head into either Lizzie or Ellen's shoulder right now. He could almost hear Ellen's whispered words of comfort and the feel the heat of Lizzie's glare that would most definitely be directed to Cathy right now for scaring Fanny. "Don't be stupid," Lizzie scoffed though she didn't sound as confident as she usually did.

Blimey that movie has certainly done a number on all of them, hasn't it?

(By the way he was certain he will never get the feeling back in his right arm as Emma was squeezing it that tightly.)

BANG!

They all jumped and Emma held George's arm close to her chest now as her head ducked a little. He knew full well she had her face scrunched up and her eyes shut tightly as if to block the whole world out. She always did when she was terrified. Ever since she was three and John told her that horror story that gave her nightmares for weeks, honestly who told horror stories to a three year old?

"Someone should go out and see what it is," Anne whispered.

"Well since you suggested it I think you should go," Lizzie jumped in quickly.

"What?! But I'm one of the youngest I think it should be the eldest who goes out, so that makes it Emma or Ellen," Annie fumbled quickly.

"It's probably some trick or treaters," Emma mumbled from behind George's arm, "they'll go away in a bit."

BANG!

They all jumped again and George's other arm wound itself round Emma, you know, to keep her on his lap so she wouldn't fall off and bang her head on the floor in fright. No other silly reason like he was spooked himself or anything...

"Oh for Christ sake one of us has to go and see!" Lizzie snapped.

"Well, you go and look!"

"Me? Why me? As the most intelligent in the room shouldn't I be preserved and someone else goes and takes a look?"

"As the most confident smug one you certainly deserve to be murdered first!"

The girls would have definitely continued to bicker behind George for the rest of the night until the rain stopped, the banging long gone from their minds and the sun was starting to rise if it wasn't for the ghostly voice that started up.

"Ellen!" the eerie voice called out. "Ellen, let me in!"

"It wants Ellen!" Cathy whimpered.

"Hang on," Ellen frowned (at least George was certain she furrowed her eyebrows in her usual light frown when she was thinking). "I know that voice."

"Ellen, it's me," the voice cried out as it continued to bang on the front door, "you know, your little sister Marianne, let me in will you, it's freezing out here and raining!"