I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend (11 page)

Steventon village is a poor sort of place. I suppose there are about thirty cottages there and they all look a bit dirty and wretched. Jane seemed to know most people and even teased a girl called Bet about seeing her with Mr Austen’s bailiff.

And then a boy came up to us. I didn’t know how old he was, but he was strange-looking. He was very
small, as small as an eleven-year-old perhaps, but his face was older. He looked very odd as he came shambling up to us making a strange noise in the back of his throat, just like a cock crowing, with his left hand jerking around as if he had no control over it. I got a terrible fright and jumped back, but he kept coming. He was making for Jane. I was very scared. It looked as if he was going to attack her. And then he sort of threw himself at her. I looked all around, seeking help, but no one seemed to be taking any notice. Two women were drawing water from a well, another was herding her ducks to the pond and Bet, the girl that Jane had joked with, was picking up a little 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 George
by 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 to
Jane 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 and her mother partnered with someone like Gilbert East or Tom Fowle, looking as if she was really enjoying herself. I must say that for her age she danced in a very sprightly fashion.

‘A supper dance!’ I could hardly breathe with excitement. Mrs Austen smiled at the look on my face and Jane took hold of both my hands and whirled me round the hall until we were both dizzy.

Friday, 11 March 1791

Something very exciting happened today. Just before supper Jane was looking out of the window and she gave a shriek.

‘A donkey! Oh, a lovely donkey! Frank’s got a donkey!’

‘What?!’ Mr Austen got out of his chair. ‘He hasn’t broken the knees of his new pony!’

‘No, he’s riding the pony. He’s just leading the donkey.’ Jane rushed out and I went with her and the rest of the family followed.

‘It’s for Jenny,’ Frank said when he dismounted. ‘William Chute gave it to me. He said that Jenny could learn to ride on a donkey. He said that …’ Here Frank frowned a bit, but then said gruffly, ‘He said, “She’s a bit shy and nervous, that pretty little cousin of yours. She’ll be better with a donkey until she gets a bit of confidence.” ’

I blushed, but no one took any notice. They were too busy inspecting the donkey, stroking him, looking at his feet, passing hands down his back and estimating how old he was by looking at his teeth. Mrs Austen gave me a sharp, appraising sort of glance — rather like the way that everyone was appraising the donkey, I thought — but no one else seemed to find it strange that a young man should send a present like that to a girl he hardly knows.

* * *

After supper when Jane and I were clearing away the plates Mrs Austen came in, closing the door behind her with a firm bang. Jane raised her eyebrows and said, ‘Uh-oh,’ under her breath.

‘Jenny dear, it was very kind of William Chute to send you a donkey, and I suppose you may keep it, but in general it’s not a good idea for a young girl to accept presents from a young man who is not related to her, unless, of course, they are engaged to be married.’ Mrs Austen’s speech came out in her usual rush of words.

I felt my cheeks turning scarlet with embarrassment.

‘A donkey!’ said Jane contemptuously. ‘Who cares about a donkey? It’s not as if he sent her an Arabian mare. Donkeys are two a penny around here.’

‘Now, Jane,’ said Mrs Austen crossly, ‘don’t be ridiculous. I’m talking about the propriety of accepting a present from a young man. Young girls like you two have to be immensely careful of your reputation. Nothing scares off a good matrimonial proposal like rumours about a girl being fast.’ She lowered her voice to a hissing whisper. ‘Men talk together in card rooms and drinking places about girls like that.’

I told her that I didn’t mind giving it back. I could hear my voice shaking. Her words made me wonder what she would say if she knew I had walked alone at night with a strange young man through the streets of Southampton. I could even feel my ears burning as I thought of how he had looked at me so gently
with his beautiful brown eyes and how he took my hand and tucked it through his arm. Would Captain Thomas Williams talk about me in card rooms and drinking places?

Mrs Austen was looking at me so piercingly that I was afraid that she could read my thoughts. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

‘You’re upsetting Jenny,’ said Jane. ‘Anyway, if you send the donkey back you make a big fuss of the whole thing.’

Mrs Austen turned her attention from me to Jane. She took a deep breath and I thought she was furiously angry, but then she surprised me by saying, ‘I suppose that might be true. Well, I’ll get Mr Austen to write a note to William Chute thanking him for the donkey and saying that the two girls will enjoy it. In that way it will divert attention from Jenny. Don’t be upset, dear. I have to tell you these things since your poor mother is not here to do it — it’s just for your own good. You know it is important for you, as well as for Jane and Cassandra, to get a good offer of marriage.’

And then she was gone, whirling from the room, and we could hear her shouting to the kitchen maid about cleaning out the fire in the breakfast parlour.

‘Anyway, she’s going to get a bit of a shock about Cassandra,’ said Jane, her lips curling in amusement. ‘Guess what, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Cassandra has a little looking glass in her cabinet that I’ve seen her kissing.
What’s the betting that Tom Fowle gave it to her?’

I dried my eyes and laughed. ‘And I kissed the donkey earlier. Don’t tell your mother that!’

Tonight Jane told me about George.

I had been waiting since yesterday for her to tell me, but I didn’t want to push her.

And this was the way our conversation went. It was like a play. It was beginning to get dark, but I didn’t light my candle. Jane sat on the window seat — one of those windows that I drew yesterday. As she spoke she played with the catch and sometimes opened and closed the window softly, like someone idly swinging a door. I sat on the bed and watched her face. I could see her because there was still some light, but she couldn’t see my face because I was in the shadows.

‘You see,’ said Jane, ‘George was born like that. He was born with something wrong with him.’

I watched the way her mouth tightened and her eyes filled with tears.

‘Go on, say something,’ she said fiercely.

I couldn’t think what to say, and in the end I just asked her why it was such a secret.

‘Because my mother is ashamed of him, that’s why.’ Jane’s voice hissed like it does when she is reading out a story about a villain. And then when I said nothing she said impatiently, ‘Well, go on, ask me why my mother is ashamed of George.’

I could guess why, but I asked the question all the same.

‘Because she cares about money more than anything else! She wants all the boys to be rich and famous and she wants Cassandra and me to marry men with big estates. At least she has hopes for Cassandra — she’s pretty and accomplished. If only she can keep her from marrying Tom Fowle, Cassandra might make a splendid match. I don’t think she has much hope for me. If I can’t even draw a cow, she can hardly say that I am accomplished, can she? And I’m not very pretty either, am I? My cheeks are too red and my mouth is too small.’

I told Jane I thought she was very pretty and that she has a much better nose than I have, but she wasn’t listening to me. Her cheeks were bright red now, and her eyes were glittering. I felt like crying. I didn’t know what to do.

‘How old is George?’ I asked. ‘Is he younger than you?’

Jane shook her head. ‘No, he’s older than Henry and older than Edward — wonderful Edward who managed to get a rich cousin to adopt him. That’s one of us off our mother’s hands.’ She was nearly spitting out the words. ‘Now she doesn’t have to bother about Edward and she can boast about him. That makes her forget that one of her children is deformed and can’t speak or read or write. She tells everyone that she has five boys and two girls. I think that she even
manages to convince herself of that sometimes.’

‘Is that why you pretended she was your stepmother?’ I felt very sorry for Jane. Sometimes I feel as if she is older than me, but now she seemed like a little sister who was upset because she was hurt. I went across, sat beside her on the window seat, put my arms around her and gave her a hug.