Free I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend by Cora Harrison

boy who had fallen over.
    But Jane didn’t seem worried. She was laughing. And then she put her arms round him. She kissed him. ‘George,’ she kept saying. ‘What’s the matter, George? Look, here’s Jenny come to see you.’
    And then she turned around. I was still scared, but I tried not to show it.
    ‘I’m pleased to meet you, George,’ I said primly.
    ‘Jenny is your cousin, George,’ said Jane, and the boy made his strange crowing noises.
    I didn’t know what to think. How could this boy be my cousin? My mother had only one sister — Jane’s mother — and only one brother who had no children, and my father came from a different part of the country.
    Jane had her arm around the boy. She was looking into his face lovingly and then she turned and looked at me. She wore an odd, defiant expression.
    ‘George is my brother, Jenny,’ she said quietly.
    I’m not sure what I said or how I looked. I remember stammering something stupid like, ‘Pleased to meet you, George,’ again, but my mind was in a whirl. How could this boy be Jane’s brother? I had never heard of him, and he didn’t live at Jane’s house.
    And then I began to feel a bit ashamed of myself, standing there so stiffly and awkwardly. I saw George look at me and I hoped that he could not read my thoughts. Jane was talking to him as though he were a small child, so, on the impulse of a moment, I bent down and picked three tiny wild daffodils and handed them to him.
    I think he was a bit puzzled by them, turning them round and round in his hand.
    I was glad that I had done it though, because Jane smiled with that lovely smile she has when she is pleased, and then George smiled and then he handed the flowers to Jane and she smelt them and then he smelt them and sneezed, and Jane laughed at the expression on his face and then he laughed and I laughed too.
    And the three of us just stood there in the evening sunshine until the girl Bet came up and took Georgeby the hand and led him away, telling him it was time for his supper, and Jane and I were left together.
    What could I say?
    Even now I am not sure what would have been the right thing to say.
    You see, dear journal, I didn’t want to hurt Jane’s feelings. A thousand questions jumped into my mind, but I didn’t want to say anything like, ‘How on earth could George be your brother?’ or, ‘Why is he not living in your house?’ or, ‘Why has his name never been mentioned?’
    Jane said nothing, just stood there looking at me with an odd expression on her face. In the end I just said — and I said it as carelessly as I could, just as though I were talking about Charles or Frank — ‘Isn’t it funny the way that boys never appreciate flowers?’
    And then we both laughed again and Jane said, ‘Race you back to the gates.’ And we both ran in the frosty air until we were breathless.
    When we stopped, Jane slipped her hand inside my arm. I didn’t say anything for a moment, but then I asked her whether she wanted to talk about George, but she just shook her head so I didn’t say any more.
    When we came back from seeing George, Tom Chute was here, chatting with Frank about shooting the crows that were robbing the seed corn from his father’s farm. He called out a cheerful greeting toJane and she teased him about his coat; I gathered it was a new one, but Jane was pretending that he had robbed a scarecrow for it. I went on ahead of her into the house — I was still a bit shy of all the joking and teasing that went on between Jane and the neighbouring boys.
    Mrs Austen was in the hall and she had an invitation card in her hand and a smile on her face, but she waited until Jane came in before showing us the card.
    ‘The Chutes are having a supper dance at the Vyne on Saturday.’ She looked quite excited. Mrs Austen loved a dance. When we rolled up the carpet in the evening and the boys danced with Cassandra, Jane and myself, she played the piano, but sometimes Cassandra took over