Free Jane Actually by Jennifer Petkus Page B

you could print out one of those copies for me now, Doris?”
    She nodded enthusiastically.
    “And maybe you could add the spelling of your name, for the cutline in the book.”
    “Of course,” she said, delighted her picture would appear in the book.
    “As a matter of fact, could I use your printer to print a copy of the photo I just took, and maybe you could sign that as well.” He handed her the thumb drive.
    “I don’t know how …” she said, confused at his request and also the process of printing directly from the thumb drive. But he recognized the printer model that stood behind the counter and directed her through the process of inserting the thumb drive, specifying the photo and printing it out.
    Then he asked her to sign the photo and date it, which she did with a stamp kept behind the counter.
    “And lastly Doris, could I have your phone number?”
    This request surprised her more than his one for the print out.
    “Why do you need that for your book?” she asked sharply, her suspicion suddenly aroused.
    “As I said, I’m leaving Bath tomorrow, which means tonight I’m free.”
    From around the corner, he thought he heard the sound of Ariel voicing an exaggerated sound of disgust.
    1 Cassandra burned many of her sister’s letters

First Impressions
Jane meets the improbably named Mary Crawford
    M ary waited nervously, now the next person in line in a hallway that seemed full of women very much like her. They were all of an average or just above average height, all had brown hair of moderate length but which they all, except for Mary, wore up and most had brown or hazel eyes. Two were in costume. Most were also reading with rapt concentration Jane Austen novels, predominantly
Pride and Prejudice
. Mary was an exception, knowing little about Jane Austen except for a dim recollection of reading her in high school. She hadn’t even thought of reading any of the novels when she was told she should audition to be the dead novelist’s avatar.
    Her lack of resolve could partly be attributed to her disinterest in Jane Austen but mostly because she frankly didn’t give a damn whether she got the role. Since she’d applied to be an avatar she’d had the talk with one of her teachers where she learned that not being suited to be an actor was not a personal failing but simply a mismatch of desire and ability. She was considering leaving school and going back home and so really didn’t need to land a role as an avatar, except for those outstanding debts she ought to address before leaving the city.
    But the single-minded concentration of the other women auditioning did make her wonder whether she should have at least tried to remember something about the English novelist. The woman third in line was reading
Mansfield Park
, a unique choice among the group, but lying at her feet was a dog-eared paperback of
Pride and Prejudice
.
    “Excuse me, do you mind if I look at your book, the one on the floor,” she asked the duplicate of herself.
    “Huh? No, help yourself,” the woman said after a distracted glance at her questioner.
    Mary reached down to pick up the book, then had to retrieve the half of the book and several individual pages that were no longer attached to the cover. That cover caught her eye as it depicted a young woman with dark black hair and sparkling eyes, younger than herself she thought, and wearing a bonnet that somehow appeared attractive, and also wearing an almost military looking jacket over a thin white gown. The artist, for it appeared to be a painting or at least made to look like a painting, had captured a woman of intelligence and some little mischief—a woman sure of herself and appearing not to have anything at all in common with Mary.
    She would be fun to play
, Mary thought. She turned the book over and saw from the description that the character had to be Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine. The back cover also displayed a painting of the author—really more of a sketch,