Pride and Prejudice...Or Vodka & Coke

By Arcadia Rannaldini

Section I, Next Section

Posted on Monday, 25 October 1999

Elizabeth stood in front of her mirror holding a set of curling tongs in one hand and simultaneously applying Boots number 17 glitter fade resistant lip gloss. The speakers blared the latest number one single in the charts and Elizabeth bobbed along to its faint hum. The overall effect, Elizabeth decided, look surprisingly well. She wore a short navy blue number with no straps and a slit up one side. Her hair bounced across her face in a waterfall of curls, her eyes were lined with gold glitter and blue and her lips sparkled. She looked like Cleopatra, well, Cleopatra with curls.

Until Jane came in, Elizabeth's confidence had risen to a maximum. Whilst Jane looked serene and natural with her long hair hanging straight about her waist and a long black dress on Elizabeth looked a seductress, but equally beautiful. How, she thought could two sisters, so different be so similar. "Jane, you look stunning!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you Elizabeth, you do too! I love that dress! Who else is coming out tonight?"

"Well, me and you are meeting Charlotte at her house, then we are getting a taxi to the Baton Rouge, then we may go to the Whale, then to the Grey ship to watch the queue to the Decameron where we shall dance the night away." Jane laughed.

At that point Lydia burst into the room. She looked positively garish. A short black skirt showed off slightly bulging legs and a purple boob tube was stretched over her ever expanding chest. She wore bright red lipstick, several layers of foundation turned her skin slightly orange and purple eye shadow was etched over her eyes. Her blond hair was straightened and hung about her face. "Ah! What fun, Mum and Dad said I can go out tonight with Kitty so we will probably see you out!"

"What?" said Elizabeth through clenched teeth. "You are joking right?"

"No! I'm sixteen. I'm allowed." Then she scampered out the room. Jane looked mortified.

"Ah great." Elizabeth pouted. Checking themselves in the mirror the girls ran downstairs to leave the house.

Fanny Bennet sat in the dining room watching Eastenders while her husband, Tom Bennet (her intellectual superior) sat in his Library reading. While Jane, Lydia and Kitty went to see their mother Elizabeth went to see her father. Having said their good-byes the girls collectively ran out of house.

Having picked Charlotte Lucas up (and hearing William Lucas shout 'capital way to spend an evening' a million times) they made their way to their first stop, the Baton Rouge. This was a large pub which blared night scene music at the top volume. Charlotte Lucas made her way to the bar to purchase the first round of drinks while Elizabeth and Jane sized up the crowed. When each of the girls had a Vodka coke in their mitts Charlotte emitted a low shriek. "Look, it's our new neighbour!"

"Where?" asked Jane. The new neighbour was a young bachelor who had bought a 6 bedroomed 3 story house 4 doors down from them. His sister lived with him and another sister with her husband were staying also. A man was also staying there.

The neighbour, Charles Bingley was a 26 and had a head of blond hair he wore a black Paco suit with a bright orange shirt. Jane was instantly taken with him. There was another man. He was a raven headed stony faced man with a distinguished air about him. He wore a pair of tight fitted black Versace trousers, an even tighter Calvin Klein blue rubber T-shirt and a scowl. Elizabeth also saw the half naked girl salivating over him with a measure of amusement.

Charles saw Charlotte and made his way over to her with the other members of his party. "Charlotte" he said, kissing her cheek "Who are you're friends?"

"Meet your neighbours, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet."

Charles smiled and kissed them both on the cheek, lingering on Jane's. "Can I buy you all a drink?" he asked, seeing the girls had drained theirs.

"Please." Said Jane.

"Vodka coke." Charlotte said. Before he left he introduced them to his friends.

"This is my younger sister Caroline, who lives with me, my elder sister Louise and her husband Henry and my best friend Fitzwilliam Darcy." None of his friends received them with the same warmth Charles did.

"Caroline? Would you like to dance?" asked Fitzwilliam to his carrion crow.

"Why thank you." She answered, proud of her handsome partner.

"Are they a couple?" asked Elizabeth innocently.

"They will be soon." Louisa snapped, and all conversation ended until Charles returned.

"What do you do for a living?" asked Jane.

"I own a company which designs computer programs. It's called Concept Sigma."

Elizabeth, seeing that Fitzwilliam had returned said, "What do you do for a living?"

Having looked her up and down he took a long sip on his pint of Guinness and said "I own a PR company and deal in shares."

"Really? That must be rewarding..."

"What do you do Elizabeth?" asked Caroline, appalled that she was talking to her Fitzwilliam but seeing her as no threat as she only wore a TopShop dress compared to her Gautier dress.

"I'm at university." She smiled.

"Oh, studying what?"

"Well, I am doing my degree in Mathematics and Jane is doing her Masters in English. Do you have a degree?"

"Oh, Lord no. I don't need one, I have a private income." And with a snort she turned away, dragging Fitzwilliam with her.

Later the girls were slightly worse for wear in the Grey Ship playing pool talking about their neighbours. "Charles is gorgeous, isn't he?" asked Jane, trying to balance the pool queue, a difficult task when one was 4 Vodka's down.

"Lucky you." Smiled Charlotte, who had been single for some time.

"Ha! Luck has nothing to do with it, look at her!" cried Elizabeth, who tried to smoke a cigarette (she was in a mood and was trying to quit!) and drink her Vodka without falling over.

"Don't think much of that Darcy or his sisters though. Snobs."

"Yes." They all agreed.

"To Jane pulling and me and Charlotte being Singletons!" at the clash of glasses they saw Charles and his friends walk to the front of the long queue at the Decameron.

"Wanker!" shouted Elizabeth through the glass at Darcy, who luckily didn't hear.

The Decameron was heaving and Blue by Eiffel 65 screamed from the speakers. Elizabeth and Charlotte filtered onto the dance floor alone as Jane was accosted by Charles, who plied her with drinks and lead her into the VIP area. Elizabeth caught sight of Fitzwilliam, who watched her from the other side of the dance floor. The alcohol and her vibrant nature caused Elizabeth to stick her tongue out at him and continue dancing. Had she watched longer she would have seen him stick his out at her and smile. Still, he had to get her back.

Charles and Jane came up behind him. "I'll meet you on the dance floor!" he shouted to her and turned to Fitzwillaim. "Come on mate, look at all the girls. Dance with someone other than me sister!" as Elizabeth walked behind them she heard her name. "What about Elizabeth? She is pretty?"

"She is hardly pretty! You have the prettiest of that family. Go back to Jane. Her sister is not good enough for me to even justify talking to." Charles shrugged and walked away. As Fitzwilliam turned to get a drink he saw Elizabeth, she raised a single plucked brow before spinning on her heel. He heard her say "Jerk." What he hadn't seen before was her legs, shame she had heard what he said. He had, however seen the smile on her face when he heard what she called him.

Later in the taxi Elizabeth was on form. Forcing a kebab in her mouth she shouted at the top of her voice "All men are pigs! Hurrah to being single!"

"Not Charles..." Jane murmured. "Ooooooooo." The others said in unison. "Oh shut up. What about Fitzwilliam. He is attractive."

"Yea, shame his looks also cause him to be the biggest looser on the planet!" The night had been amusing. Many things had happened, but there was much more to come...

Or was there?????

The following morning at the butt crack of dawn Elizabeth was found by Jane sprawled fully clothed across her bed with her mascara scrawled across her face. In her hands she clutched a fools ransom in stolen glasses and beer mats and a packet of cigarettes. Jane shook her sister awake to the sound of "What the? You sadist... leave alone...bed now!"

About an hour later Elizabeth was found slumped on the couch clutching a fizzing glass of pain killer and her head. She wore a pair of oversized underpants (with the words Fuzzy Bunny on them in pink) and a T-shirt which said "I'm not hungover, I'm dying!" This was typical Elizabeth recovery position. "Hey sis!" shouted Lydia. She was rewarded by Elizabeth holding a hand up to her and hissing. Failing to listen to a word of her sisters she shouted "Mum said you had to get up and see her, she wants to know about last night!"

"Tell her to ask someone else, I'm disposed of." She muttered. "No, mum said you knew about our neighbour."

"Ask Jane, she was talking to him more than me, where's the racing pages, I must have a bet on..."

"How can you think about having a bet when I had such a fun evening! The RAF squadron nearby had all it's pilots out, my! They are lovely."

"Do shut up, you mock me with you're stupid ranting! You don't even listen to me! Go away!"

"And this one pilot..."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed storming out of the room, unfortunately straight into her mothers waiting clutches. "Ah! Lizzy! Come now, Jane is being shy, dish the dirt on Charles..."

"I care not about Charles. I want to sit in front of the telly eating Smarties playing on the Playstation! And where are the racing pages!" alas, her mother was worse than Lydia. "Really? Well first tell me about Charles, I don't really see why Jane needs a Masters degree, if she could marry..." and then Elizabeth stopped listening.

Later that day Elizabeth escaped to her room, locked the door and sat on her couch (she had converted her room into a home until she could afford a flat) and whilst sipping on a can of Guinness she ate a box of cereal and played on the Playstation. Her father knocked on the door. "Elizabeth, can I come in?" Only Jane and her father were allowed into her room. "MM." He came in. "Elizabeth, dearest. You are blessed with genius, looks, a sense of humour. Why do you continue to spend you're holidays in here eating and drinking?"

"I went out this morning!"

"To place a bet."

"So did you!"

"I'm allowed."

"I won Ł30."

"You're just playing the odds."

"It gets me out the house."

"I insist you go with you're mother and sisters to Will Lucas tomorrow. You will look nice, you will smile and you will not threaten to murder you're sisters!"

"Does that count actual murder?" he laughed. "You are taking the mick aren't you dad?"

"I am, but Elizabeth, I don't know what I would do without you here keeping me sane. You're like the son I never had!"

"A slob?"

"Oh, do shut up." He turned and left, being replaced with Jane, who, grinning from ear to ear told her that Caroline (who? Of yea, the half naked slobbering bird, right...) and Louisa (the weird one with the pie faced husband? Bleh!) had just been to see her (and I was not informed because? Oh, it's 6:00 and I'm not dressed, fair enough.) and that Charles was coming later for dinner (does that mean I have to get dressed? Can't I go out to the pub instead? Why? No, I promise I wont play on the slot machines? Am I lying? No? Oh go away!)

Elizabeth, having been specially scrubbed sauntered downstairs wearing a pair of blue jeans with a thick black polo necked woolly jumper. She hadn't bothered with make up, but at least she had washed her hair. Her mother was in raptures with Jane, who looked like a princess in a cornflower white dress, Lydia, who looked like a tramp in a black mini-skirt which showed off her knickers every time she breathed, and Kitty, who looked plain silly in a red skirt and spaghetti strapped white vest top.

Mary was sat reading a magazine. She had dyed her hair a new colour, flamingo pink, wore a black Marilyn Manson shirt and a pair of black jeans with holes at the bottom. Elizabeth smiled, knowing that Mary would not be noticed but she would be instantly scorned for not showing any cleavage or leg. "Elizabeth! What are you wearing. Go change right this instant, and lipstick? We do want to make a good impression now..." her mothers voice was enough to cause a hangover relapse. The situation was halted by the arrival of Charles. Elizabeth, who adopted her 'when in company' pose half closed her eyes and stopped listening. The evening was a loss to her. However she did listen to one conversation...

MOTHER: Who is the friend staying with you, we have been told Blah Blah Blah...

CHARLES: He is my best friend Fitzwilliam Darcy. I've known him since I was young.

MOTHER: We heard he was engaged to you're sister. In fact Blah Blah Blah...

CHARLES: I don't know, but they aren't even a couple.

MOTHER: Really, well Blah Blah...

LYDIA: La di dah di dah (never listened)

FATHER: Lydia! Manners!

CHARLES: He works in PR, owns a multinational. No, he isn't short of a bob or two.

LYDIA: Garbled words about something (bored into numbness)

Not that she cared about that stupid Darcy though! One part of her head said 'serious denial...' but it was silenced. Anyway! How on earth could she consider a man who wore a rubber shirt! The thought was to daze her for many days.

William Lucas was frightfully posh. No doubt about it. His house was a wedding cake style mansion with Roman style pillars and naked statues which romped like a newly married couple (ahhh! What was with the marriage alliteration!)

Elizabeth wore a blue trouser suit (as William Lucas was frightfully posh) and no glitter make up. Lydia had been forced into a longer skirt as Jane had in a nice way said that she looked like a bleeding tart and didn't want showing up, then had slipped her a tenner.

Mary had been forced to stay at home as she threatened to vomit on William Lucas's cat (who was a frightfully posh cat) if she had to wear a pink ballerina type dress.

Elizabeth didn't blame her. She had threatened to do the same thing. Elizabeth, in a good mood for some reason (i.e. hangover free day!) had given her Ł20 to go to the pub with, so in good Samaritan mode even tried to listen to Lydia.

The moment Jane entered the party room she was accosted by Charles who guided her to the booze table. Elizabeth was lucky as Charlotte already had the Vodka. She was introduced to Wing Commander Johansun and they had an animated discussion about the Harrier G7 Jump Jet (note from Arcadia... Yes, I am a plane geek! I'm trying to get in the RAF!) when she noticed Fitzwilliam (what kind of a name is Fitzwilliam, like a bloody Jane Austen type name) listening to her every word. 'I'll have him' thought Elizabeth. "Fitzwilliam, so good to see you again. Tell me, do you know about the propulsion systems of Harrier's? Do share you're knowledge."

"I know nothing on that subject, however, you seem to know much, so I came to listen in the hope of learning more. Thank you." Although both were too proud to smile the corner of their mouth curled. 'Denial...' that voice said, but was slapped into order. "Elizabeth, this old fart music is getting to me." (William Lucas was frightfully posh and preferred a Waltz to Wham) "I insist you DJ and play fun music in the dance hall (William Lucas was so frightfully posh he had a dance hall) so I can have a dance."

"You only want me to do it as I'll sit and get drunk and fling CD's about like a loony! You sick sick individual! I'll do it if you bring me drinks."

Her choice of CD's was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a CD or two, and before she could reply to requests for more '80's music Lydia dived into the CD's and played music which contained reference to removing clothing or rampant sexual action. William Lucas (who was frightfully posh) was drawn to Darcy (who he assumed to be frightfully posh as was frightfully rich) and said "What a charming amusement for young people!" then, spying Elizabeth pouring her 15th Vodka insisted she come to him. "Elizabeth, you must dance with Fitzwilliam. He is alone, and I am sure, Fitzwilliam you cannot say no to a woman of such exquisite looks."

"No, Elizabeth, would you dance with me?"

"Indeed, I can't. I have had far too much to drink anyway and I don't feel like dancing." (She added in the drinking part to irritate the frightfully posh William Lucas). "Please, Elizabeth, it would be a pleasure to dance with you."

"Naa, I'm off to talk to Charlotte instead. See ya!" and off she went. Caroline, watching Fitzwilliam like a vulture swooped down upon him. "Well, I bet I know what that look is. You cannot believe the imbecility of these people. All they do is drink and dance."

"No, I was thinking about something else."

"What would that be?" in her head she shouted MEMEMEMEMEMEMEME! "How a set of perfect eyes makes an otherwise unworthy person beautiful."

"Who?"

"Elizabeth Bennet."

Elizabeth meanwhile had left the party and made her way to the local pub to see Mary and get some decent spirits down her.

Posted on Thursday, 28 October 1999

Elizabeth Bennet's property consisted almost entirely of a orange mini with a sub standard engine, a Playstation and a portable television, which, unfortunately for her sisters, was not available to anyone but herself and Jane.

On a frosty October morning Jane walked into Elizabeth's room and received a fright. Since Elizabeth had been on her year in industry she had worked from home on the internet, e-mailing the results of the complicated mathematical formulas to her boss. She wasn't even sure what the office looked like. Mainly instead of studying she played on her Playstation or ate cereal straight out of the box. Don't get me wrong, Elizabeth did her work. She was highly intelligent and had 11 GCSE's and 4 A'levels (much to her father's delight and mother's consternation) and the degree in mathematics was, for Elizabeth, a time extension while she decided what she wanted to do with her life. Jane looked down at Elizabeth, and saw her lying on the floor surrounded by little pink slips of paper which the fax machine had spewed out. "What you doing Elizabeth?"

"I have to calculate NASUITS income tax."

"That sounds like fun."

"Well, the fact that they owe several hundred thousand cheers me up! What can I do for you sis?"

"I just got a phone call from Caroline Bingley. She has invited me to spend a day shopping with her!" Elizabeth raised a single recently plucked eyebrow. "Oooo, will Charles be about..."

"I am not going to see Charles!" but she betrayed herself by blushing. "Liar. Have fun, don't break the bank, remember, you're a skint student and she doesn't wear anything but Prada."

"Remembered!" and she skipped out the room. "What is she doing, she is 21 years old and skipping?" Elizabeth said to herself and, fed up with accounting, she went to get a bar of comforting chocolate.

The nest day early in the morning Elizabeth's bright orange mobile phone rang. It was Jane. "Elizabeth?"

"What's up?" Elizabeth mumbled while painting her nails blue. "I've had a little accident." Elizabeth forgot her nails and leapt up. "What's wrong?" She demanded. "Oh, no, it's nothing really. I sprained my ankle trying on a pair of Gucci high heels. Caroline insists I stay at her house for the weekend to make up for it. I shan't be home until Monday."

"Right, I'm coming over"

"No, wait..." But Elizabeth had already hung up and was making her way over.

Elizabeth ran up the Bingley's driveway which was lined with ancient Oak trees. Netherfield was a beautiful old house, dating from around 1800. It wasn't an old country squires house. Back in the times it was built it was intended for the gentleman in trade. It had been rented to Charles Bingley for something in the region of Ł2000 a week.

As she got to the gate she saw Fitzwilliam about to clime into the driving set of his yellow Porsche 911. He looked different to any other time she had seen him. His hair was slicked from his face and revealed a flawless complexion. He wore a black polo necked wool jumper and a pair of ratty blue jeans, neither of which looked designer. If it hadn't been for the fact he was climbing into a Porsche with a private number plate you wouldn't think he was the son of a multi-millionaire. "Elizabeth?" he said, closely scrutinising her. "I would like to see my sister, if that would be possible."

"Of course, I'll take you too her." Then, in stony silence they walked into the house where Bingley met them and allowed the cleaning lady (who had the nasty habit of sloping off early and drinking the Gin) to take her to Jane.

It was only when Jane said "Elizabeth, what are you wearing?" that Elizabeth understood the queer glances that Fitzwilliam, Caroline, Henry and even Charles and the cleaning lady gave her. She still wore her pink pyjamas. While Jane thought it was embarrassing for her sister Elizabeth just shrugged and sat on the bed where she heard the full tale.

When the digital watched beeped 3 Elizabeth felt that it was time to go; and very unwillingly said so. Caroline offered to drive her, as she still wore pink pyjamas, and she only wanted a little cajoling to accept it, when Jane pulled a face and said she would miss her sister. Caroline, already bored of Jane thought that it would get Jane off her back if she had her sister come stay. She sent the cleaning lady to get her some clothes.

Having decided to get a Chinese that night Elizabeth, Caroline and Louisa went to dress (or to get dressed). Sitting in front of the telly watching Eastenders while Fitzwilliam went to get the Chinese ("must we have Chinese, it's so dreadfully common can we not have Sushi?" "I quite like Chinese actually, Caroline." "Oh, OK.") Caroline and Louisa said how awful it was for Jane (who was upstairs knocked out of pain killers) to be injured, then thought no more on the matter and instead gushed over Grant Mitchell. When Fitzwilliam returned Eastenders went off and Panorama came on. Soon losing interest Elizabeth ate her Chinese in silence and went up to see Jane before going to bed. The second she was out of ear shot Caroline began abusing her.

Cackling she began with "I cannot believe she came in here wearing her pyjamas. Why must she run out the house without getting dressed just because her sister sprains her ankle?"

Louisa cackled along.

"It shows she loves her sister." Charles contributed.

"Oh, please. Fitzwilliam, if you're sister came to you wearing nothing but her pyjamas would you be pleased?"

"Absolutely not."

"See?" She smiled. Charles snorted. "And the way she drinks smokes and gambles. I hear she won Ł30 on the horses."

"I'm going out." Said Fitzwilliam standing up and reaching for his long black pure wool jacket.

"Want some company?" Asked Caroline.

"No, thanks, you wouldn't like where I'm going."

"Where are you going?" Charles asked.

"To the off-licence. Then to the betting shop. Must have a bet." He smiled and left a mouthing Caroline.

Elizabeth saw Fitzwilliam walk towards his car keys from her seat on the stairs. "Hey, Fitzwilliam!" she called.

"Put a tenner on the 45, Callus." She handed him a tenner and with a wink she walked away.

"She heard?" he said to himself, laughing at her gall and good humour.

Part 3

Posted on Saturday, 30 October 1999

The first bit is based on a true story. Honest. It was as big as a plate!!!!!

It was 4 am. Fitzwilliam was sat in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water (actually it was milk, but he wouldn't admit to that now would he!) when he heard a squeak from upstairs. Leaping to action her ran towards the noise on the 3rd floor. He peeked around the door to Elizabeth's room. He saw her in her fluffy pink pyjamas stood on the bed. In her hands she held a chunky Next Direct catalogue and on the floor was a huge spider. Even Fitzwilliam started. She aimed at the huge beast and threw the catalogue with all her might. When it landed on the spider she let out a victory whoop. Picking up the catalogue she expected to find a nicely squashed spider, but instead the thing crept out, alive! "Bah! You mock me with you're invincibility!" she shouted. Fitzwilliam giggled. Next she threw random objects at it. A pack of cards, an empty coke can, a shoe. The thing would not die. Next, she grabbed a football and with perfect aim she threw it. It splatted the spider into the floor. Nodding with glee at her immense skill she scooped up the little beast and threw it out the window muttering "I don't care how much bad luck it is, hate spiders, spiders must die." Fitzwilliam, smiling turned for one last look before going downstairs to a well deserved glass of milk.

The next morning Elizabeth was sat by the pool with Jane. Caroline and Louisa didn't want to go any where near the water while Fitzwilliam was around as the water would cause their make-up to run. Fitzwilliam pretended to polish his Porsche (why would he do that? He has a cleaner to do it.) when he was actually admiring Elizabeth's legs through a yellow bikini. Shaking his head at the absurdity of the thought he decided he just admired her for her looks, and he didn't consider her a future mate due to her family (Gah! Makes my aunt look like Father Christmas) and the fact that she was poor when compared to him. Not that money mattered much, but how would she feel? They would not fit in together in crowds.

When Elizabeth stood up and dived into the swimming pool he had to remind himself to put his tongue in his mouth. He smelt Caroline's perfume before he saw her.

"Hello Fitzwilliam. It's a lovely day. Would you like to go shopping?"

"Caroline, we have guests. We cannot leave them." (I cannot go while she is so scantily clad! That would be foolish!)

"Oh they will be fine. They have Charles." At that moment Charles came scuttling out of the kitchen clutching 3 strawberry Lossi's (Greek yoghurt and strawberries, E-Mail me if you want the recipe. It's ace!) Fitzwilliam thought Caroline would start foaming at the mouth.

"What is he doing?"

"Getting drinks it would seem."

"Why? We have a maid!" Fitzwilliam smiled. Luckily his Purple mobile phone beeped. It was his sister, Georgiana. "Hey sis, I'm surrounded by people right now, but I'll just go somewhere quite." Somewhere far away from Caroline!

That night Jane was still in allot of pain and the swelling had got worse so, again drugged up on pan killers she soundly slept while Elizabeth had to face the others.

Having watched Elizabeth sink 2 Vodka's and Cokes Fitzwilliam, board with Caroline watching him write an E-Mail to his sister (How fast you type! So many long words! No spelling errors!) he got an idea.

Moving close to Elizabeth he asked her "Elizabeth, would you like to go to the pub for a swift half and watch the football?"

She smiled, but did not move.

"Elizabeth?"

"I heard you, however, you just wanted to see my ill breeding no doubt. Had I gone to the pub with you, you would no doubt have pointed out that I am a gust here and just inviting me was rude. Had I accepted I would be in the wrong. Now, I am not. So, Fitzwilliam. I give you no answer. Hate me if you wish."

He smiled and was just about to ask her if she would be so kind as to accompany him to the pub so they could discuss football with a distant view of finding out if she had a boyfriend, husband or possible partner, and if not would she be so kind as considering going on a date. Realising the stupidity of this later, he was glad that his eternally ringing mobile phone rang. Disappearing off to his room he spoke to his cousin, Squadron leader Fitzwilliam, and for some reason, told him about Elizabeth.

That night Charles saw his cleaning lady polishing the wood floor in the ball room.

"Would you like a Gin and Tonic?" he asked her, as he had one himself. Standing up the stout lady brushed herself clean and said.

"Ooo, go on then, only one though."

He had seen Elizabeth drink heavily but never had he seen anyone sink anything so quickly.

"Jane's a sweet girl. I knew her when she was a wee bain. Aye, I cleaned their house. Jane always used to make me a cup of tea and Elizabeth would make me coffee with a tipple of whiskey."

"Jane, she is sweet isn't she."

"Aye, you known you should do something with this room. 'Ave a party." She knelt down and continued with her work. Charles thought to himself, yes, a party.

As he went towards his room he saw Jane and Elizabeth playing cards in her room. Jane wore no make up and still looked beautiful. Charles smiled and slept with sweet dreams. She was leaving tomorrow night. She would be back soon.

Part 4

Posted on Monday, 1 November 1999

By now Fitzwilliam had realised that Elizabeth was a night owl. Again he was sneaking about the house early in the morning only to find that Elizabeth was sat in the ball room playing the baby grand piano. She played modern songs, such as Ocean Colour Scenes 'Profit in peace'. She was not the best pianist in the world but at least she tried.

Fitzwilliam walked in. She looked up and smiled. They did not exchange words, but he merely stood and listened to her play. She occasionally smiled, but on the whole she concentrated. They must have been there half an hour until Elizabeth spoke.

"Well, Fitzwilliam, since you are in no mood for conversation and I am tired I am going back to bed, goodnight."

She walked away without another word being uttered. When she was out of ear shot Fitzwilliam murmured "What can I do to make you talk to me?"

Fitzwilliam was glad to see her go. She attracted him more than he liked and Caroline was more determined than ever to have him pay attention to her.

Upon their return home they found Lydia and Kitty had gone to the Nags head, a local RAF pub to see the officers, their mother furious that Charles had not asked Jane on a date, their father in the library and Mary with a brand new shocking pink hair colour and a pair of yellow Doc Martin boots.

"It's good to be home" Elizabeth muttered and went to her room so she could play the Playstation and eat a box of cereal.

That night Elizabeth and Jane went to the pub. Stumbling home at 3:30 in the morning Fitzwilliam saw them on the house front fighting with what appeared to be lightsabres. He had to get a closer look at this.

Hiding behind the gates he saw the girls attacking each other whilst laughing at the top of their voices, mindless of the neighbours.

15 years of gymnastics paid off for Elizabeth, she backflipped, which even though she was legless was impressive, and took a swipe at Jane.

Fitzwilliam, who knew this was stupid and childish really wanted to go play too. Perhaps he could show them he wasn't proud and distant. Just as he built up the courage to go out to them Elizabeth shouted to Jane.

"I am so glad we are out of that house. If I had to endure another day of Fitzwilliam creeping me out I would be forced to commit homicide."

"Now Elizabeth, he isn't that bad."

"It's all right for you. You have someone to aim for, or soon probably someone to love. Me, I have squat. I need a man!"

Fitzwilliam, like Caroline had done so many times before shouted in his head MEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEMEME.

"Elizabeth, let's go in. It's cold and I need a fag."

They left Fitzwilliam stood in the cool winter air, mouthing protests at his description.

Elizabeth was found at the foot of her bed that morning with her lightsabre next to her. Her father shook her awake to vigorous protests.

"Eh, na, bed, me sleep, head hurt. You go now."

"Elizabeth, wake up. I have a surprise for you today!"

"What's that then?"

"You're cousin, William Collins is visiting." Elizabeth looked up through bloodshot eyes.

"You are joking right?"

"No. The man who will inherit my business when I die is coming." Elizabeth buried her head back in the pillow and muttered something about wanting to go back to sleep. Her father laughed and left her.

At 4 o clock William Collins turned up. Elizabeth almost projectile vomited at the sight of him. His hair grew long around his waist. He wore a pair of 4 sizes too small leather trousers, a black, dirty tee shirt and a black leather jacket. He had rolled up on a Harley Davidson motor bike. Elizabeth felt sick at the sight of him. Jane tried to look beyond his grossness and Lydia and Kitty laughed. Mary thought he was the most stylish person she had ever seen.

Apparently William Collins was a financial advisor to a Lady Catherine De Bourgh. Her mother kept saying that Elizabeth was a mathematician but Elizabeth wanted as little attention drawn to her as possible.

Unfortunately for Jane that privilege was reserved for her.

"Tell me Jane. What sort of music do you like?"

"Well, I like Savage Gar..."

"What do you like?" her mother asked William.

"I like Marylin Manson.

"Oo, are Elizabeth has all their albums."

"No I do..."

"Shut up Elizabeth."

Then Elizabeth went into sleep mode.

That night as she walked past her father and William her father coughed and said the word 'weirdo'. Elizabeth couldn't stop laughing.

When Fanny Bennet informed William that Jane was seeing the rich young man next door, but Elizabeth had no one. Indeed, she was sure Elizabeth had a thing for him. Fanny Bennet was obsessed with pairing her children off and getting rid of them. While the eldest 2 wanted careers the others had no such luck.

Sorry about this bit, it's not as exciting as I want it to be, but it must be done.

The next day Lydia and Kitty asked Elizabeth if she could give them a lift into Meryton, the local town. Elizabeth, who had nothing better to do but eat cereal and watch TV agreed. Unfortunately William asked to come, so Jane had to come too because Elizabeth would be damned if she was going to be left alone with this freak.

He insisted on sitting in the front with Elizabeth, and she almost choaked to death on his cheap cologne. Lydia and Kitty sang all the way and by the time she got to the town she was ready to strangle the next person who spoke.

"Look. It's Denny! Who's that with him?" shouted Lydia.

Going to investigate they found that one of Lydia's pilot officer's, Denny had a friend who had just been posted here. He was named Peter Wickham. He was ruddy complexioned, beky nosed and had a set of delicately pouting lips which begged to be kissed. His crown of blond hair was cropped Julius Caesar style around his head, a direct contrast to Fitzwilliam's Marc Anthony curls.

After the introductions were made and Lydia and Kitty had a good drool over the Jaguar pilot Jane tapped Elizabeth to point out Fitzwilliam's Porsche coming towards them with the top down. It pulled in and Fitzwilliam and Charles smiled at the girls. Fitzwilliam thought Elizabeth looked fabulous with her hair pulled off her face and no make up. She was so natural and perfect, totally different to Caroline. Then, he saw him.

Elizabeth saw Fitzwilliam's face change. Peter smiled and held his hand out to Fitzwilliam, who with a look of shock on his face said good-bye to the girls and drove off at full flank.

That night the girls decided to go to the pub, and unfortunately Lydia, Mary, Kitty and William were coming.

The second she entered the door she was accosted by Peter who plied her with Vodka & Coke and sat her down. He asked hundreds of questions, how did she know Fitzwilliam, who was he staying with, who long had he been there, did they have carnal knowledge of each other?

"I hear he has a home in Derbyshire."

"Yes, it's a beautiful old mansion. He inherited it from his father." She looked up at him.

"How do you know him?"

"I spent my childhood with him. We were best of friends, and I was his father god son. But when we grew up he was jealous that his father liked me best, so he stripped me of the wealth his father had left for me. So instead of a career in banking with all it's wealth I am reduced to serving in the military. I'm lucky they let me in as a pilot. If it weren't for the education his father paid for I may not even be so lucky."

Elizabeth was in shock. "I knew Fitzwilliam wasn't my best friend in the world but I didn't think he was such a total prick."

"He wasn't always. I don't know what happened."

"I can't believe Charles puts up with him. He is so sweet and charitable while Fitzwilliam is a total wanker."

"When he feels like it I'm sure he isn't the prat he seems to be."

"Still, his treatment of you is terrible."

The booze began to sink in, when one is 5 Vodka Cokes down one does not always have the best idea's in the world. Her voice gradually raising over the distant hum of William's nonsensical rants she shouted out.

"I know what we should do. We should go, steal his car, wreak it, sell the parts and use the money to have a rough west end Londoner come and kidnap him, and then all will be well!"

He laughed a deep soulful laugh.

"No, better yet, lets go get you're plane and wait until Charles goes out..."

"Only Charles, what about his delightful sisters?"

"Naa, don't like them, leave them. Wait until only Fitzwilliam, Caroline and the other two are there, and bomb them."

He couldn't stop laughing.

"Won't we get caught."

"No, cause then we will fly the plane to... to..."

"Amsterdam?"

"Yes!"

and so the conversation continued.

For once Elizabeth, though hungover, was not awoken by Jane, rather she awoke Jane. "Sis, let me tell you what Peter told me!"

She related the story to Jane, and although she always believed everything Elizabeth said, she thought this was nonsense.

"Naa, I can't believe that! No one is that bad Elizabeth."

"I don't know, I can believe it. When we stayed there he did nothing but creep me out."

"Elizabeth, creeping someone out is not a crime."

"It should be."

Just then her father brought the post. As Elizabeth shuffled through the pile of bills (What do you mean I owe the bank Ł1,234 34p. I don't have it! I'll have to flog the car, me Playstation, Oh no! What will I do. What do you mean that's in credit? Credit, what is that? I don't have credit. Where did I get Ł1,234 34p. Oh, pay cheque from work. Yay! Lets go to the Casino. Why not? Aw you're no fun!) junk mail (hey look, I could buy a toaster 67 years interest free credit!) personal letters (why oh why do I receive letters from the old landlord at the nags head? Was I that good a customer?) and party invitations (Ooo, Charles is having a party. Yay! Booze up!).

The thought of a party kept the girls sane while William was staying. Night after night he bored them to death. Elizabeth was sat on the porch pointedly reading a '101 reasons why being a lesbian is better than being married to an ugly man' type Cosmopolitan article to keep William at bay.

He came and sat next to her. Again he made her want to puke by using a pint of cologne to cover up the BO.

"Elizabeth, you're gonna dance with me at the party right?" he sat disgustingly close to her. She could feel her stomach churn. His long hair was greasy, you could fry a bag of chips in it. His clothes were dirty (natural is best) and his skin was blotchy and looked like he was about to explode in acne. Bleh!

"Well, don't forget you have to dance with me sisters."

"Ahh, of course. Put it is you I want to dance with."

A small nod surfaced and she continued to ignore him and instead looked at naked pictures of Ewan McGregor. He started looking at them too.

"'Scuse me." She got up and ran to her room.

She stripped, dived into the shower and scrubbed herself clean and washed her hair 7 times using a whole bottle of shampoo.

The night of the party came and Elizabeth went through her usual routine. First she showered (she still couldn't get rid of that icky feeling) then she applied her make up, then she did her hair, then she got dressed.

She had bought a brand new dress for the event, as she hoped Peter would be there. It was a sparkling purple dress with no sleeves. It was darlingly short and showed her off to the best advantage. She wore a pair of incredibly high heels in black, as wearing purple shoes would look cheap. She thought about wearing tights but thought it would make her hundred pound dress look cheap.

Since she hadn't had a bet all week she could afford to splash out.

Her hair was piled on her head and had the same curl to it as Fitzwilliam's. Bah! Why you think about Fitzwilliam? You stupid girl!

Grabbing the eyelash curlers and glitter lip gloss (Clarins. Lack of bet caused better make up to be purchased) Jane came in. Again, Elizabeth got instantaneously jealous.

She wore a classic long plain white dress which showed little flesh but suggested natural curve. Her blond hair was parted in the middle and hung at her waist. She wore little gemmed insect clips in it.

"You nearly ready?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Promise me, if this gets too bad we are going straight to the Decameron."

"Aye, I promise."

When they arrived Charles and Caroline were greeting guests. Caroline gushed over Jane and greeted Elizabeth with coldness. Elizabeth smiled and said "Caroline, how are you?" and as she went out of ear shot "you heartless cow."

She looked around for Peter. She didn't realise he was not there until Lydia, dressed in a short skirt suit, sparkley bra and jacket, told her he went to London. Then she went to dance.

Elizabeth considered sneaking to the toilet to have a fag and a pint of Whisky when William grabbed her and insisted she dance with him to Abba.

Elizabeth had been embarrassed in the past. At school once she had her skirt tucked into her knickers and no one told her. Once when she was at a night club she snogged the ugliest lad on the course, once she had put make up one eye but not another when she went to college. She had never been more embarrassed than now.

For ten minutes she was forced to dance with William. He wore mucky black jeans and a white top which showed the amount of dinner he had thrown down it. His boots were greasy and his hair, although freshly washed was dry and matted.

He grabbed her hips and tried to slow dance to a fast song. His bad breath made Elizabeth want to faint. When he tried to touch her bum that was the last straw and she left the dance floor, saying her sisters wanted to dance with him.

She went to the bathroom, chain smoked a packet of fags and drank the only bottle of Smirnoff Black she could find.

She found Charlotte and went to talk to her. They sat and watched the couples dance, took the mick when they were being stupid and continued to drink themselves into oblivion.

She saw that Charles had been a terrible host as he had danced with, talked to or got drinks for/with Jane for an hour. She smiled. They were so very obviously going to become a couple. Yay!

Just as she started fiddling about to find her mobile phone to call her friend in Liverpool she was accosted by a tall dark man bearing drinks.

He wore a pair of black trousers with celtic patterns up one side. She recognised it as Versace from yesterdays copy of Cosmo, a tight yellow T-shirt was pulled across his wide chest and around his thick neck (the sort that made you want to say "judging by the thickness of you're neck I believe you are a good hunter-gatherer and would be an excellent provider for my children") he wore a silver chain.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth it was Fitzwilliam.

Even though when he asked her to dance Elizabeth's brain said NONONONONONONO her body said YUMYUMYUMYUMYUM. She nodded and he took her hand and lead her onto the dance floor…

Posted on Friday, 5 November 1999

When she said yes Fitzwilliam looked like he was going to explode with pleasure. For some reason, this plucked Elizabeth's heart strings and she warmed slightly to this tall, gorgeous man with unusual taste in tops.

Just as she was stepping away Charlotte grabbed her and said in a frustrated voice.

"Elizabeth, don't act too keen, do like I told Jane, act cool. Otherwise you may lose him!"

The song that started up was (predictably) the sexiest song that they could possibly play. As Livin' La Vida Loca' from Ricky Martin started Fitzwilliam got brave and pulled Elizabeth close to him, not that she minded.

As it happened Elizabeth felt none of the puckey (is that a word?) ickyness with Fitzwilliam as she felt with William. He was an excellent dancer and somehow managed to incorporate sexy dancing without being too gropy.

His smile was devastating too.

Elizabeth realised that the smile was hiding something. He was only dancing with her because he wanted to show off what a slut she was, dancing like this to a song like this. Desperate to regain the upper hand she said

"Come on, surely we must have something to talk about."

"I'm not a very good conversationalist."

"OK, at least you're honest. Well, I could comment how tonight is the night I usually go to the Decameron, but then again, change is inevitable."

"It is also 2 months to the day that we first met."

BAH! He tries to seduce me with this nonsense (how sweet, he remembers)

"There, I have made conversation. Now you try."

"Do you shop in Meryton often. By the looks of the DKNY dress I would guess not."

HA! She had him!

"Actually, when we met I had just made a new mate."

His face lost the soft pink glow and his lips became drooped in a frown. He glared at Elizabeth, as if thinking of an answer.

"Peter has the amazing habit of making friends of anyone, however, he tends to loose them just as easily."

"Losing you're friendship must have been a hard blow? Had he kept it he may now have a company, an easier life instead of having to serve in the military..."

Fitzwilliam was just about to take her hand and lead her outside to tell her what Peter's friendship was worth, then ask her with the utmost solemnity to allow him to take her out on a date, he would take the Porsche, could she drive it? Of course, if he could have lightsabre battles on the front of her house at three in the morning.

In the space of about a millisecond he had planned his speech out when William Lucas (Who was frightfully posh) put a heaving arm around Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam. He was attracted to them because, as Fitzwilliam was so frightfully rich and since he was frightfully rich too surely Fitzwilliam should be dancing with his frightfully rich daughter and not Elizabeth, who was poor, scruffy and had terrible eating habits.

"Ah, splendid. Fitzwilliam you have found a gem here. A gem among coal. (if he wont have my daughter then it will be me who made this match!) When what I guess will happen happens I hope there will be more to come."

He frantically gestured to Charles and Jane. They were dancing close and were looking deep into each others eyes, although Jane sometimes looked away remembering Charlottes advice.

Fitzwilliam looked strange. He raised a single brow and was deep in thought. Did Charles like Jane?

Yes.

Did Jane like Charles?

Mmmmm.

"Excuse me." He kissed Elizabeth's hand, vowing to tell her the truth about Peter, then ask her to watch the football with him in his private box.

Then he left Elizabeth for Caroline.

As he had kissed her hands Elizabeth's legs went weak.

Not because she liked him.

Na.

It was the drink.

Or the fact that he had the pertest bottom she had ever seen a human posses. Had she been a prehistoric person in search of a mate she would be forced to bite his bottom as an indication of whether he would be a loving and caring husband. Instead she drooled on her shoes. That also was the drink.

Elizabeth hid in the bathroom for the next 30 minutes holding her head in her hands trying to make sense of her drunken brain ravings. Why did he storm away? Why did she care?

A tap at the door awoke her from her stupor.

"Elizabeth?" OH NO!!! Caroline Bingley. What does she want? Does she wish to see my brain haemorrhage from the stress? Damn her!

"Yes?"

"I hear you are taken with Peter Wickham."

I'm what? Oh no, she is so not speaking to me about this through a toilet door. No. That is just fundamentally wrong.

"Wha?"

"Can I just say he has treated Fitzwilliam dreadfully in the past. I'm not quite sure why, but he has. Anyway, his father worked for Fitzwilliam's father."

What is this girl on?

"Look, I don't care. All you have told me is that he is the son of a man who worked for Fitzwilliam's father. You have not accused him of child abuse, necrophilla, cannibalism, drug pushing, racism, peddling pornography or any of the other things deemed socially unacceptable. To me he is a good bloke."

She could almost picture Caroline foaming at the mouth.

"Sorry for interfering, I meant well."

Elizabeth muttered "Sure, whatever you orange skinned freak."

Elizabeth recovered soon after and went back into the ball room. It was only then she noticed the cleaning lady stuck into the gin.

Now well and truly board she devoted her attention to tearing up beer mats into little pieces and putting them into ashtrays (Oh come on. When you are at a pub surely you do that? No? Then I guess I don't have my mental health.)

Just as she was stuck into artistically ripping up a Guinness mat William put a slimy hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth leapt out of her chair and nearly ran across the room shrieking Monster, kill it!

Instead William told her that the man she was dancing with earlier (Fitzwilliam) was the nephew of his boss, Lady Catherine. He was going to talk to him. Wasn't he ace? I mean, why tell me? She thought. Does he want an award? Gah! He makes me ill.

One part of Elizabeth new she should tell him not to go, as Fitzwilliam was rich, posh, good-looking with a sense of personal hygiene and drove a Porsche, not a crumbly motor bike. In essence, he was the opposite of William. However the sadistic part of Elizabeth wanted to see Fitzwilliam squirm with the same disgust she had for him.

Then she realised by telling William to go ahead she would make him talk to her more. Which was bad. So instead she had a pretend coughing fit and hid.

She watched the look on Fitzwilliam face as this icky little man introduced himself. While William was so stupid he couldn't see that the 2 syllable sentences meant Leave me you sick little man Elizabeth could.

Eventually Fitzwilliam had his version of a couching fit, a phone call (produced by pressing the page button on his pager which rang his mobile phone) and thanking the heavens ran away.

William soon saw Elizabeth laughing and told her that Fitzwilliam was a fine man. Elizabeth, due to the booze was tempted to ask how William would know a fine man as he was a closed minded freak of nature.

On a table she heard her mother, Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Long and her aunt shouting about Charles and Jane's future couple ship. She saw Fitzwilliam watching them. Their voices growing louder by the second. Elizabeth went over.

"Mam, shut up. People are listening."

"Elizabeth, do not tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"I think you have had a few too many glasses of sherry."

"Look who's talking. This one here is the bane of my life. She comes home early in the morning, smokes, drinks, dresses badly, girls, she wears black nearly all the time. Look at this dress!"

She grabbed the hem line of her dress.

"She bought this in a sale aye, a sale. None of your girls would do that. And she keeps harping on about doing a Masters. Why does she need an education?"

Something in Elizabeth's head went Pop!

"Shut up! You mock me with this idiotic talk woman. Would you prefer me to be a cave woman sat under a bush poking berries in my ears? Shut up woman!"

Fitzwilliam watched her walk away and smiled to himself. Brave. He wouldn't have done that.

The band re-started and invited people up to sing. The first was Mary. She wore a long black velvet dress and had lime green hair. Her black lipstick was smeared and her eyeshadow had run.

In a solemn voice she sang 'Paranoid' by Black Sabbath. She sucked. Big time suckage. She had never heard anything so bad.

Then, she saw Fitzwilliam face.

He was smiling, no, laughing with someone.

Elizabeth had been embarrassed in the past. At school once she had her skirt tucked into her knickers and no one told her. Once when she was at a night club she snogged the ugliest lad on the course, once she had put make up one eye but not another when she went to college. She had been groped by William Collins, but this was almost as bad.

She was mortified.

When Mary finally finished she was about to start another when her father, who had been on the bitter shouted:

"Mary, give the other girls a chance."

Unwillingly she made way.

Then, as if things could get no worse they did.

"I know a good song or two, and would love to entertain you all with a bit of good rock music, but there are many other things we must devote our time to. We must learn a great deal of new things, how to play an instrument, how to work a computer, how to (with a grin at Elizabeth) love. We cannot just devote our time to singing and dancing. If we did then we would spend our lives in sloth. We must have hobbies, drag racing is one of mine."

Elizabeth just glared.

"What the bloody hell is he on about?" she asked Mary who shrugged and said "Dunno, but I wanna get out of here, he freaks me out."

Instantaneously (and predictably) Fanny Bennet began praising him as the most brilliant person in the room. ('And he has a degree, no, not a shoddy one like Jane and Elizabeth, a real degree. Where from, Bangor. Where are Jane and Elizabeth? Cambridge and Oxford.')

Elizabeth, now feeling that brain haemorrhage grabbed Mary by the hand and dragged her to the pub.

All right, if this is too icky and sickly do tell me, cause I think it is. If you don't like the way she reacts think how you would react...

Elizabeth awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, a swirling stomach and skin that felt like it was sweating pure Vodka.

Now, British girls have several natural reactions to certain things. If we get a cold we act as if it is the end of the world and stay in bed for a month. If we can't afford that darling little must have dress we bang it on the overdraft. If we want to paint out bedrooms shocking pink then damn it, shocking pink is the colour we will have. But most of all, if we have a hangover, we cook.

Elizabeth, being a Brit. with a hangover stumbled into the kitchen. It was 8:30 am and no one was awake. She stood in her pyjamas animatedly talking to herself making a cheese and bacon quiche, a chocolate cake, the Christmas cake that she should have made 3 months ago, donughts, fondant fancies, eclairs and her favourite, biscuits.

She ran out of ingredients at 10:34 when her family, awoken by the smells of cooking went to investigate. Finding Elizabeth in her Pyjamas William had an idea. Asking her mother to clear the younger children (and Jane) out he decided to make his intentions clear.

Elizabeth was decorating a lemon meringue with whipped and sugared egg white. When William came up behind her and said:

"Elizabeth, I cannot stop thinking about you, you occupy my dreams, every waking hour, I want you."

Elizabeth thought she was dreaming.

"You're mother agrees and thinks you should drop this silly business of doing a degree and come to live with me. My reasons for wanting you are that I feel you will add something to my life. I can see that you are a good cook and would have the ability to care for me, my employer, Lady Catherine believes I should have a wife who, and these are her words, my Elizabeth:

Get a woman who is able to keep you happy without wanting too much in return, get a woman who doesn't care about outward appearances, excepting her own, do be sure she doesn't overspend, aim for a young lady who what she lacks in genius she makes up for in common sense. Ensure she knows when to be quiet, for nothing is worse than a girl who argues constantly. Above all though, make sure she knows where a woman's place is, the home.

So you see, Elizabeth, I have thought this out very well. I want you to come to Hunsford with me, and live with me, as my fiancee. You can be assured Elizabeth that when we are together at last we will be happy. You need not fear me. So long as you do what I ask when I ask all will be well."

Elizabeth could take no more.

"You are joking right?"

"What?"

"Do you honestly think that that petty, gross, condescending little piece of drivel you have so obviously been practising in front of the mirror could ever make me want to have anything what so ever to do with you? Well, I have a little speech too.

"I would rather have a full frontal lobotomy without anaesthetic than to marry you, I have an IQ of 138, I am at Oxford University and you want me to give it all up to look after you? No, NONONONONONONONONO! Get away from me you freak show, and a woman's place is not in the home, it is anywhere she wants it to be!"

The sick little man smiled at her.

"Playing hard to get?"

"No you weirdo. The sight of you causes me to vomit."

"Ah, you wish me to lavish attention on you. Fair enough. I have heard of other girls doing this, turning down the man they really want. Fine. I will ask later."

"How can I get through to you how much I dislike you?"

He then did something all British girls with a raving hangover hate. He stuck his finger into the icing of her chocolate cake and licked his finger suggestively (shouldn't that be sickly?)

Elizabeth realised that now he had touched her cake it was ruined. In a fit of hungoverness and rage she flung her cake at him screaming "Get out!" over and over again.

If this is as terrible as I believe it to be that would be because I have 'flu'. I am well and truly insane with acheness. Bleh!

Having seen the time at only 4:34 (state of delirium, drugged up on tablets from kind NHS doctor) have decided to add another chapter since too poor to afford peak rates.

Elizabeth ran and hid in her room, chain smoking Jane came in to see what all the fuss was about. When Elizabeth told her Jane's face fell.

"Bleh! That is so gross."

"I know. I'm gonna have to go live in a convent now."

"Just you wait 'till mam finds out."

Ironically, Fanny Bennet had just been told that while Elizabeth had said no, then flung a cake at him, he was confident of her love and soon they would be married. Fanny Bennet, who, although stupid, knew her daughter, promised that her daughters wild ways would soon be gone. William then realised that the drinking binges, sexy dancing with Fitzwilliam Darcy and flinging of cakes was a bad sign and promptly said he was changing his mind. (Note from Arcadia. Why the hell do blokes do that? One minute they keep calling, and sending flowers and singing songs down the phone and besieging your mobile with messages, then when you give them a chance they change their minds? Actually I know why. They are meanies, horrible meanies.)

Fanny Bennet went to see her husband and demanded that he make Elizabeth accept William.

After calling Elizabeth to his room he asked why she didn't want to marry William.

"The sight of him offends my eyes."

Her father looked at her for what seemed like an eternity.

"Now. Your mother says that if you don't marry him she will disown you. But Elizabeth, stop fiddling with that box of matches and listen, if you choose to marry him I will never speak to you again. The sight of him also offends my eyes."

Fanny Bennet burst out in a fit of tears. She screamed the house down practically. She demanded her wild daughter be sorted out, then thrown out. Having seen Charlotte Lucas walking away from the house with William sent her straight to her bed.

Having been slipped a tenner Elizabeth dived straight in the car with Jane and went to the Nags Head.

Part 23 Million

Posted on Saturday, 6 November 1999

After a few days when her mother was not speaking to her, just shouting, Elizabeth had finally been forced to venture out of her room as she had a, run out of cigarettes, b, run out of Vodka, c, fused her Playstation, d, read every back issue of Cosmopolitan she owned and e, had lost all faith justice, truth, and saw the episode of Eastenders when Grant Mitchell came back to his 'Bruvver' Phil and said good-bye. Sob!

Elizabeth hadn't laughed in 3 days, which was plain weird. Mission Impossible style she formed her hands into a gun and sang 'dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-du-du-duuuuuuuu- du-du-duuuuuuuu- du-du-duuuuuuuu-du-du.' Checking in all directions she made sure the coast was clear and legged it straight to her car.

As she drove to the nearest shopping precinct she spied Jane walking. Pulling over she saw she had her phone pinned to her ear. Waiting until she was off the phone Elizabeth pushed the door open and a bleary eyed Jane got in.

"What's up sis?"

"Elizabeth, Charles and his guests have gone to stay in London."

"What?"

"I was on the phone to Caroline, she said Charles and Fitzwilliam were desperate to see Fitzwilliam's sister, Georgiana. Elizabeth, she reckons that Charles and Georgiana are something of an item."

Now, Elizabeth was not of the disposition to cry with anyone. She was not even of the disposition to cry. She tended to make a nonsensical comment and wait for the laughter.

But that she could not do now.

Now, Elizabeth needed a facial.

'Mrs Long's Gossiping Gals Gathering Centre' was the finest beauty parlour in the town to hear and spread malicious gossip. Jane and Elizabeth stripped off, paid their Ł40 pounds and got ready to spend the day being pampered. First they went into the Solarium. Jane just had to look at the sun and get a beautiful tan while Elizabeth just sat in the shadows, went red and peeled. Alas, Boots invented Sun In. A revolutionary formulae that left you beautifully brown, however, if you applied it to yourself then you would get a beautiful streaky mess which meant you had to stay in for the next 4-6 weeks.

As they stuck the green goggles to their eyes, decided they looked like aliens and were tempted to grope the sexy-looking masseuse they lay on the sun beds.

"Well Elizabeth?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think happened with Charles?"

"OK, this is what I think. When he looks at you, and don't just take my word for this, ask anyone. He looks at you and sees the only person he wants to be with. Jane, he is mad for ya! If Caroline had any reason to think that Fitzwilliam fancied a piece of her half as much as Charles wants you then she would have planned their living room decor by now. As for all this crap about Charles being in love with Georgiana. Look, I don't know her, but as far as I can tell Georgiana is 16. Charles is 25. Now, I don't have a problem with the age difference but Jane, 16 and 25, surely Fitzwilliam would never allow that. It's like child molestation with his sister. Naa, that's just wrong. Even Fitzwilliam would not allow that to happen. That's just wrong. Fundamentally wrong. Caveman wrong. So wrong I dare say even William wouldn't so it! Then again...no straying from subject. Look, we all know that Caroline wants to get her hands on Fitzwilliam, that much is obvious, he is pretty hot, I'll admit, but it's his money she wants. She isn't succeeding at pulling him so she is relying on forcing Charles and that poor teenager, who should at this time still be taking her first puffs of a fag and swigging cider on street corners. Jane, she dragged him away from you because she found out, probably with Fitzwilliam's help if it is true that they are staying in London at his house, that Charles was going to ask you..."

"Elizabeth, don't say it, it will just make me feel worse."

"It's true though isn't it."

"I can't honestly think that of anyone."

"Jane, it's up to you to make up you're own mind. But he loved you Jane. But he has broken you're heart. So I am going to be forced to step on his throat until his jugular vein bursts. Shame really. Quite liked him."

For the next 4 hours Elizabeth and Jane had massages, facials, catheodermi treatments, deep moisturising face packs and sauna after sauna. Jane still clung to the belief that Charles left of his own accord and not because his sister's ad Fitzwilliam made him leave. That night Jane and Elizabeth went out to the pub and Jane became famous in the Nags Head for being the only person able to out drink Elizabeth.

In all the time that Elizabeth had latched himself onto Charlotte. While Elizabeth wasn't pleased about this leeching which was going on she thanked Charlotte for keeping him out of her way. Charlotte nodded and said it was no trouble. The least she could do for her friend.

Elizabeth never once realised that Charlotte herself had an idea concerning William. Having got her degree, then her masters, then a job in publishing which she hated she had never been successful with men. She would go out every Friday night with Jane and Elizabeth and watch the men follow them around all night, buy them drinks and then when the men tried to get the girls alone even though Elizabeth always told them to go screw themselves and stop thinking that the girls were that easy to get close to, that they would have to try harder and that they were the scum of the earth, Charlotte always felt that she would like that sort of attention. She was the obligatory fat friend, and although she knew Jane and Elizabeth didn't see her like that no amount of liposuction would solve her problem.

So she grinned and bared it. She didn't smoke, drank only when Elizabeth was about and tried not to smile as she had bad teeth.

Elizabeth was drunk on the Saturday night before William left and having forgot (lost) the keys to the house and no one would answer the door she had taken to sitting on the lawn making daisy chains waiting for Jane to come back from the pub with a drink sodden Mary.

She estimated the time (mainly due to lack of sunlight and chuck out time at the pub) at being 12 pm. Trying to light a fag (by the way, Fag is Geordie slang for cigarette. I don't know why, it's what me Mam and Da ses.) with a rock and a small, yet sturdy stick she spied Charlotte and William, she was about to yell out to him and demand that the weird little man let her into the house so she could shut him out and laugh at him when she saw him, kissing Charlotte.

And Charlotte was letting him!

Elizabeth, mainly through drunkenness wanted to hide. So she covered her eyes with her hands and pretended she was invisible. Then, William came towards her.

"Elizabeth? Have you lost you're key again. Would you like to be let in?"

He can't see me, I'm invisible.

"Elizabeth?"

Nothing.

"OK. Whatever."

YAY!

Charlotte walked towards her house, head hung in apparent shame. Elizabeth leapt into action like a mighty mouse and legged it after her, demanding answers.

"Charlotte!"

"Elizabeth. Hi there."

Stumbling over her shoelaces she landed head first in a bush.

"Elizabeth?"

"Don't you Elizabeth me young lady."

"Elizabeth, I'm 8 years older than you."

"Were you just doing what I think you were doing."

"Jealous?"

"Don't be dumb."

"Elizabeth, we got engaged tonight."

Elizabeth's tongue fell out of her mouth. She attempted to form a sentence but it came out as:

"Wa ye daen ya rage geil?" AUTHORS TRANSLATION: "What on Earth are you talking about you most scruffy looking youth?"

"Elizabeth? I have made up my mind."

"Nee man, ye oot yer breein man." AUTHORS TRANSLATION: "Charlotte, I believe that you no longer have you're mental health."

"Elizabeth, I am 28 years old I will do no better."

"I canne ken ye." AUTHORS TRANSLATION: "I do not comprehend what you are saying."

"Look, Elizabeth, I know you want better for me, but I am not a romantic like you. I want away from here. I hate my job. The only thing which keeps me going is the excitement of going out with you every Friday night. That is it. Elizabeth, this will be good for me. Honest."

Elizabeth could not think of an answer to this. She hugged Charlotte and kissed her on the cheek.

"Ged luck gel, ye need it" AUTHORS TRANSLATION: "Good luck, you need it."

Elizabeth got back to the house, found that Jane was back and knew she couldn't get into the house. Settling in on the lawn she looked into the stars and retrieved her lighter. It was bloody freezing mind.

Jane realised Elizabeth was stuck outside and at bout 12:20 let the poor dear in.

She went to see Elizabeth the next morning (afternoon really, but loss of Charles equated to a heightened coffee consumption rate and a lower time judgement.)and found her with her head in the fridge.

Somehow, Elizabeth had the ability to eat anything. Chocolate, crisps, chips, dips, raw vegetables, entrails, carcasses (processed or not, made no difference) and Haribo star mix flew down her oesophagus like there was no tomorrow.

Now she sat holding an apple in one hand and a box of Vindaloo left over from a few nights ago in another. Thinking about it she shrugged, dipped the apple into the chicken vindaloo and ate the apple.

Jane wanted to vomit at the sight of it.

"Hey sis." Elizabeth mumbled with her mouth still full f apple/vindaloo.

"What do you call that you're eating sis?" Jane asked.

"Appaloo." She grinned not missing a beat.

Jane would not smile. She merely took a pack of Aspirin, a bowl of yellow jelly and a glass of milk and returned to bed.

William left that day. As they went to wave him off they were forced to watch him have a public groping session of (not with, the groping was not returned) Charlotte and then listen to him attempt to thank them for their kindness. Elizabeth wanted to punch him.

When he finally left and her mother went to bed Elizabeth couldn't resist but get the cleaning apparatus out and scrub the entire house.

When she cleaned his room (Bleh) she found several items which she could not comprehend the use for, plus a script of his engagement speech to her, with her name crossed out and Charlotte's replaced.

The en-suite bathroom was filled with deodorant bottles (then why the hell did he stink so bad?) and most disturbingly, drying on the radiator were a pair of woman's panties.

Yea, Elizabeth didn't wanna think about it neither.

As she snuck into her room Fanny Bennet called Elizabeth into her room.

"Elizabeth, I cannot believe you gave William up to Charlotte, I hope you are a spinster for the rest of you're life young lady. He was a perfectly good man and you blew it. You ruin everything you touch. Had I been you, I would have married him."

Elizabeth glared at her mother dangerously.

"Mother, if I were you I would have put a bullet in my head long ago. I have scrubbed you're bloody house from top to tail and you don't even have manners enough to thank me. If you say the name William one more time in my presence I will fling you against brick wall!"

Her mother was left mouthing in anger at her daughters sober ranting.

The next day a letter came from Caroline Bingly which sent Jane to the chocolates with Elizabeth. They sat reading and re-reading the trash that Caroline sprouted eating a bowl of fresh cream (mixed with a helping of Vodka) with a bar of galaxy.

The letter was like a fan letter to Georgiana Darcy. Having overheard (not eavesdropped) on several telephone calls between Fitzwilliam and his sister Elizabeth decided that the stories Caroline was telling were utter fabrications.

She knew that Charles would not have forgot Jane so soon as Caroline made it seem. In that instant Caroline became mortal enemy number 6 after the current landlord in the 'Great White', the bouncer who chucked her out of the Decameron for drunken behaviour, the person who killed John Lennon, Hitler (but did not really count as was dead) her mother and now, Caroline Bingly.

"Look, this'll cheer you up Jane, we'll go to the video shop, purchase all of the Sean Bean Sharpe video's and watch as he deflowers Napoleonic young ladies. That always cheers you up."

Jane thought about it for about 31 seconds.

"Indeed, it does."

So the entire day was spent watching Sharpe's (add title of relevant Sharp here. There's so many to choose from. If you haven't seen one before I insist you go buy the videos NOW!) thinking how wonderful it would be to live in the Napoleonic times chronicling their tales.

(Somewhere, sometime far far away Jane Austen started writing frantically)

When Elizabeth and Jane were well and truly in love with dashing Sean Bean/Sharpe and excited about Christmas re-runs Elizabeth's mobile phone beeped. Taking it out (with a new lime green cover) she read the message. It was from Peter:-

Elizabeth, what you doing tomorrow night? Fancy dinner with me? We can plot world domination.

Part 0.0020141457

Posted on Saturday, 13 November 1999

Jane woke up at 11 o clock in the morning only to find Elizabeth sat on the sofa in her room examining her toe nails.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?"

"My toe nails, they aren't very exciting are they?"

"Well, no, but Elizabeth, they're toe nails. I don't think they're meant to be exciting. More practical."

"Mmm."

"Are you going out with Peter?"

"Naa."

"Why not?"

"Course I am, just like upsetting you."

"You sick, sick individual. Ahhh, quick, rugby re-runs on."

Jane flung herself on the TV, somehow turning it on using her face.

For the next hour and a half Jane and Elizabeth were unable to move, speak or breath. Instead, they ate crisps, drank endless cups of tea and drooled on their trainers. The Rugby was one occasion when Elizabeth and Jane did not growl at the screen, they were physically unable too.

Jane had to remind Elizabeth at 6 to get ready for her date as when she went to wind her up about it she was engrossed in the Playstation.

When Elizabeth declared she had no cloths to wear, no nice perfume and no intention of going out as she wanted to stay in and drink beer and play Monopoly with her dad Jane had to bribe her.

This was typical Elizabeth date mode. She would get excited about it for half an hour, then get fed up of it, get fed up of people talking about it, then refuse to go because she was an irritating little snot ball.

Having been forced into a dark blue trouser suit (look, Elizabeth, it's shiny, you like shiny, glitter, you're like a magpie. ELIZABETH! You will wear it!) and a glittery red strappy top (Elizabeth, it's nearly Christmas, be festive.) she was pushed out of the door and greeted by Peter.

He wore black jeans and a black Ben Sherman shirt. His hair was slicked from his face, Julius Caesar to Octavian in an instant. He stood beside a red Ferrari and had a bunch of roses. While Elizabeth remained untouched by this Jane, who was watching from a window drooled on her shoes.

Lydia also hung out of a window seething with jealousy. Elizabeth could feel her fingers tighten around her neck. She smiled up at Lydia and, waving a friendly two fingers in the air she sped off into the night.

Elizabeth spent the night utterly and truly board. She expected a date, not a 101 reasons why I hate Fitzwilliam Darcy. Having originally believed she could possibly come to like Peter she saw that he was too superficial for her.

Well, that was what she told herself.

Truth was she saw he wore white socks with his black shoes and was instantly put straight off.

When he dropped her off at home he leaned over for a kiss. Ironically she had a sneezing fit, which put Peter right off.

Shame.

Elizabeth was accosted in he room by Jane, who agreed with Elizabeth that white socks were a turn off.

Realising they still had 2 days left on the Sharp videos they sat down to watch Sharpe's Eagle. Elizabeth and Jane know how to live, they do.

Elizabeth and Jane possibly had the worst family in the world. One sister was an amusing, yet none the less weird guitar playing Anne Rice reading loser, the other two were the biggest tarts the world had ever seen. Their mother was evil in its human guise.

However, like any family genes can go weird. Cleopatra, for example, was an inbred child of 10 generations. Recipe for disaster, I hear you mutter under you're breath? Nay, sometimes, just sometimes the genes can be focused beautifully to form a well rounded individual.

Elizabeth still couldn't decide what category she fit into, good genes or bad genes.

Jane and Elizabeth's favourite auntie and uncle were Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. They were never swayed with Jane's sweet and amiable nature and didn't take advantage and they took Elizabeth as she was. Best of all they loved them for it.

They were visiting for Christmas and arrived on December 21st. Jane took the children to play and kept them until new year's eve, as Jane loved kids.

Elizabeth avoided them like the plague as she was not allowed to be a slob around the ids and influence them.

Or so her mother said. She still hadn't forgiven Elizabeth for teaching the parrot to swear at her.

Jane was forced to endure the entire of Christmas listening to her mother harp on about Charles. While she didn't complain Elizabeth soon realised Jane was very upset, and was now tempted to add Charles to her Mortal Enemy list.

One night Aunt Gardiner found Elizabeth sat on the long wooden kitchen table reading what, at first glance, looked to be a trashy romance novel. It turned out to be worse.

"Elizabeth, what are you reading?"

"How to take over the world in 2 days."

"Ahh,, care to expand?"

"No, I'm sober."

"Fair enough. I want to talk about Jane."

"Take a chair, pull up a glass."

Pouring a bottle of vodka liberally in 2 glasses and topping it up with an inch of coke Aunt Gardiner got down to business.

"Elizabeth, this Charles, did he lover her?"

"I think, nay, I know so. I have never seen such promise. They spent hours together. It was so cute. Then, he up and left. Just like that."

"Elizabeth, it could be that he was just looking for some diversion. We are a bit out in the sticks here. He may have just looked for diversion, then forgot."

"No, you didn't see it. Honest."

"Since you say it, I believe you. Now, tell me about a certain Mr. Peter Wickham."

"Oh no!"

"your mother tells me you are very much in love. I met him the other night while you were at the pub.."

"It was quiz night, totally understandable!"

"He bent my ear about Fitzwilliam Darcy. He found out that lived in Lambton, near him."

"Indeed."

"Elizabeth, I don't trust him!"

"and I don't love him"

"Great. Why?"

"You want an honest answer?"

"Of course."

"He wears white socks."

Aunt Gardiner looked at Elizabeth gone out.

"You are kidding?"

"Na. I can't love a man who wears white socks."

"Elizabeth, you are well and truly weird. You have bet on the England/Scotland match?"

"Aye."

"How much you win?"

"Ł50. Fworre, that Alan Shearer."

And thus the conversation continued.

Elizabeth awoke in a terrible strop. Thumping about her room she plastered on her make up without a care in the world. Painted her nails without polishing them first. Moisturised before toning. Drank a cup of coffee in a huge oversized novelty cup without adding 5 kilo's of sugar. She was totally out her tree.

Elizabeth had had a terrible Christmas. Without Jane being on form she changed her behaviour patterns. Jane never wanted to go to the Decameron now so Friday night was spent sat in doing university work or job work.

Elizabeth was saving a fortune though, so could buy new dresses when Jane got over Charles.

If, she got over Charles.

Today was Charlotte's wedding. Elizabeth was to be chief bridesmaid, which meant she had the opportunity of getting off with the best man, which would have been nice if the best man had been vaguely attractive, but he resembled the back end of a Skoda.

As Elizabeth helped Charlotte in the back of the church before she went to say her vows Charlotte, with a tear in her eyes said:

"Elizabeth, I need you to come and see me soon, I shan't be able to cope otherwise. I shall depend on hearing from you soon. Very soon. Come with Maria and my father in March. Please."

Elizabeth didn't really want to as she would rather force her Playstation into her oesophageal passage but could not abandon Charlotte.

"Yea mate. Good luck."

The bride and bridegroom left for Kent that night. As they left Elizabeth sang:

"Help me if you can I'm feeling down, and I do appreciate you coming round, help me get my feet back on the ground, won't you please, please, help me!"

That night Elizabeth, feeling a loner mooched around the house in her pyjamas swigging Vodka and Coke from a Newcastle United mug. Jane came to see her with a frown.

"Elizabeth, Aunt Gardiner has invited me to go stay in London with her. I'm going, it'll give me some peace to do my thesis and get me out this house."

"I agree. I'll miss ya sis. When you going?"

"Tomorrow."

The rest of the night was spent packing clothes, bottles of Vodka and cartons of cigarettes. Elizabeth was going to miss Jane so much she eve lent her hr Laptop, Larry.

When she left Elizabeth felt well and truly deserted. With a shrug she totted off to the Nags head humming

"Hey, we don't wanna fight no more, Hey hey hey, we don't wanna fight no more."

The only problem with her cronies at the Nags head was that whenever she saw them she made outlandish bets and had to buy drinks when she lost to cheer herself up.

Elizabeth just hoped that she would hear from Jane soon.

Part 465.9373

Posted on Thursday, 18 November 1999

Elizabeth had very little to do with herself now that Jane and Charlotte left. She had no friends to speak of in the area as all her school friends were in university and all of her university friends were back in Oxford.

Elizabeth took to working hard and decided she was now a genius parallel to Einstein, until she went to the supermarket and found she couldn't add up her shopping in her head.

She briefly considered a part time job but balked at that thought when she realised it would mean early mornings and dirty manual work.

She heard from Jane within a week of her leaving. The phone conversation went thus:

Elizabeth: all right mate! Miss ya I do!

Jane: Elizabeth, the worst has happened. I went to see Caroline Bingley the other day.

Elizabeth: Why?

Jane: it's only polite.

Elizabeth: you're only meant to be polite to humans, dearest.

Jane: Elizabeth!

Elizabeth: sorrry. Continue sis.

Jane: well. She wasn't in at first. So I left a message. She came to see me 3 days later. Then, she spent the entire time either talking about Georgiana-bloody-Darcy or acting like she wanted to be somewhere else. Bitch. Then, she said she may come and see me again, if she had time. I was so tempted to tell her what to do with her time.

Elizabeth: I would have.

Jane: I know. I have been totally deceived. I hate her.

Elizabeth: I miss you, sis. When you back?

Jane: About April, in time for you're birthday. What you doing?

Elizabeth: I'm meant to be off to Hunsford. I don't want to though.

Jane: why?

Elizabeth: cor blimy. For someone who goes to Cambridge you really are dumb.

Jane: You suck.

Elizabeth: I really do.

Jane: I gotta go. I'll ring you soon.

Elizabeth: bye.

Jane: bye.

The conversation left Elizabeth just a little perplexed. Shrugging to herself she inhaled a Terry's chocolate orange bar and had a refreshing glass of milk.

Elizabeth found herself sat with her mother for some intangible reason. Her mother was scolding her for not liking Peter Wickham.

"Elizabeth, listen to me instead of fiddling with that book. Do you understand. He is seeing Mary King. What do you mean who? M-A-R-Y K-I-N-G! You are stupid. You let all the good ones go, why?"

"I'm a lesbian?"

"Stop being stupid and listen. Why?"

"Because I like to see you mad at me?"

"Be serious."

"Oh. But I am."

With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to the pub, sometimes drunk, sometimes not, did January and February pass away.

Elizabeth, Maria and William Lucas (did I mention he was frightfully posh?) were driven to Hunsford by a personal chauffeur in a limousine (as William Lucas was frightfully posh - have I done this to death yet?) with blackened out windows and, much to Elizabeth's delight, a mini bar and a TV.

Making a stop off in London so Elizabeth could see Jane she was half drunk by the time she arrived and Jane, Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth resolved on going to the pictures that night to see the Blair Witch Project.

Sat in the main isle Elizabeth held a huge box of pop corn, a can of smuggled in Newcastle Brown ale, a bag of Skittles and a roll of Polo's.

What she didn't see was Fitzwilliam Darcy sat 5 rows behind her.

He saw her though.

As the film started people began chattering with fear, including Jane and Aunt Gardiner. Elizabeth however was much too wrapped up with polishing off her can of ale and crunching merrily on pop corn and Jane's ice from her coke.

Pinching Jane's coke Elizabeth removed a 4 tot bottle of vodka from her pocket and poured the contents in. Polishing off this she set to work on the skittles, simultaneously eating pop corn.

Getting fed up with having to use 2 hands to eat, one to force the pop corn into the mouth, the other to eat the skittles she up-ended the bag of skittles into the popcorn and chomped merrily away.

Fitzwilliam couldn't stop laughing.

He wanted to go talk to her. He was just about to make his way over when he saw Jane.

He felt a twitch in his stomach.

Was it guilt?

Naa.

Never.

What would I do for that vodka?

Having run out of things to eat she ate the polo's in one go. Fishing in her pocket she found a bar of chocolate she nicked from the frightfully posh William Lucas. She guessed it was frightfully posh and swallowed it without chewing.

A girl and a boy in front of Elizabeth stood up and announced they were leaving as the girl was scared. Elizabeth reached over and stole the chocolate bar they left in their wake.

It was half eaten but hey? Waste not...

She then found a pack of cigarettes in her pocket. Peeling the no smoking sticker from the seat in front she lit up and kicked back.

When the purser came to tell her off for smoking a glower and a growl sent him packing.

As the pack was relinquished the snack lady came. The movie had hit a screaming high and Elizabeth was forced to choke down 4 Advil to calm the head ache she developed.

Reaching forward to the clenched fist of a patron she plucked the Rolo's from the fist and began plopping them into her open maw. The patron screamed "Ahhhhhhhhh! The Blair Witch stole my Rolo's and legged it out of the cinema.

Someone sat alone seemed to pass out with terror. Elizabeth shrugged, extracted their ice lolly and returned the wallet she found earlier.

Jane was curled up fetal in terror. Aunt Gardiner poked Elizabeth and suggested she take her home.

"You wan go home?" Elizabeth asked, her mouth obscured by a lolly.

"No. I have to see what happens."

"It's pretty obvious. It was the teacher, weren't it."

"SHUUUUUUUSH!" The collective audience shouted.

"Ah, go screw yourselves. I haven't even been paying attention and I sussed it out! You mock me with you're stupidity!"

Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth took the terrified Jane home. On the way out Fitzwilliam took the chance to reach out and brush Elizabeth's jeans with his hand.

Well, he liked the look of them!

The idea for this bit was unwittingly given to me by Janey. HA! This is a collection like no other...

To cheer Jane up Elizabeth let her go through her suitcase and take the mick about all the useless stuff she brought.

"Elizabeth?"

"What?"

"What's in the box?"

"All the things I hold dearest."

"Its dead heavy? What's in here? Bricks?"

"No..."

Jane tore the lid of the Cuban Cigar box and marveled at the contents.

Packet of Fags (empty with phone number on back) One of.

Lable from bottle of Vodka, Martini, Jack Daniels and Pernod. Several of.

Small, rusty, possibly once red tin toy fire engine. One of.

Tin of Carling. Empty one of.

Shoelace. One purple one of.

Tin shoe. Possibly stolen from fathers monopoly set. One of.

But most astonishingly..

Several small pieces of a rock like substance.

"Elizabeth, hon. What the hell is all this crap?"

"My collection of things."

"What's with the tin of Carling?"

"From when Newcastle qualified for the FA Cup."

"The fire engine?"

"Me lucky red fire engine?"

"And the stones?"

"Well, you collect interesting jewels, Dad collects stamps. I collect Granite."

"Granite?"

"Yes."

"Granite?"

"Yes."

"Elizabeth. You do not have you're mental health."

Shrugging she gulped a can of ale in one and lit a smoke. Jane just shook her head muttering "At least I have my mental health."

Elizabeth left for Hunsford soon after. When she asked if she could drive the limo she was greeted with a stern "NO!" as the limo was very expensive an Elizabeth was very drunk. They arrived at Hunsford at 9pm and was driven to a small cottage on the edge of some arable land. As they drove to the driveway Elizabeth looked in the window and was astonished by what she saw...

Posted on Saturday, 20 November 1999

Elizabeth had come to Hunsford expecting to see that Charlotte had somehow managed to get William into nice Farrah's, a Ben Sherman shirt and nice shoes. She expected a nice semi detached bungalow with a nice back yard and a dog and 2 cats.

Instead William Collins met them at the gate wearing a pair of very tacky 80's looking Bermuda shorts and no shirt which showed off his sweaty chest covered with layer upon layer of spare tyre's and worse still, he had had his long hair permed and cut into a mullet. His skin was greasy and he still had the acne Elizabeth had rid of when she was 14.

Charlotte was almost the same as the last time Elizabeth had seen her. She wore a scowl and had had her hair cut very short. When she saw Elizabeth was there she smiled in relief.

The house on the inside was a terrible clash of William gross, sick taste and contained statues of decapitated limbs or naked nymphs and Charlottes excellent taste. The decapitated statues and gross paintings would have looked obsidian had it not been for the lime green walls and yellow skirting boards.

The garden was an over grown mass of weeds, grass and pansies. There was no dog, no cats, just a snake ("he's called Cranston, isn't he marvelous?" "No William. He is gross. Get it away from me.").

Elizabeth was lead to a room which she could only describe as a closet. Realising she was to store her clothes in her suitcase she checked the bed only to find William stood at the door asking her to take care with the counterpane, as it was expensive.

"What the bloody hell is a counterpane?" she asked herself when the weird little man left. Shrugging she went over to the window and attempted to damage it.

Charlotte soon came in and sat on the bed. Elizabeth now saw she looked terrible. Her skin was pasty, her eyes had bags under them, her hair was lifeless and she had lost weight.

"What's up mate?" Elizabeth asked with a look of genuine concern.

"Nothing. I'm glad you're here Elizabeth. I needed some distraction."

"Why? The area doesn't suite you?"

"I hate it here."

"Then I have just the cure for you."

"And do I need to ask or will I be going to find the glitter?"

"Correct Charlotte. Where is the nearest club?"

Elizabeth said Charlotte could borrow her clothes now as she had lost so much weight. As she tried on a backless number William came in and gave Charlotte a revolting look of desire.

"You look lovely Charlotte. Is cousin Elizabeth allowing you to try on some of her clothes?"

"We're going out clubbing tonight William."

His face went from chokka with lust to hard with anger.

"You are not Charlotte. Do you not know what we are doing tonight."

"Cousin William. I have come here to entertain Charlotte. She wont run away with an Italian count with a pert bottom and a nice head of hair(although I want her too.)"

"No, No, I will not allow it. Elizabeth, you may go, but Charlotte cannot."

"I am so not going clubbing on my own."

"William!" shouted Charlotte with a great amount of frustration in her voice.

"Charlotte. We must speak in private."

Elizabeth couldn't believe the scene which had just unfolded. She shrugged and fished around in her suitcase and smoked a whole packet of Regals and had half a bottle of Vodka to calm her down. She was so close to punching William she needed to get leathered to keep her sedated.

Elizabeth sent a message to Jane on her mobile. All it read was "Odds on survival, 100-1. How long will they last? 9 months tops."

Elizabeth, now thoroughly plastered heard a car roll up outside. She hung out of the window only to find a huge Ferrari screech to a halt. The driver obviously sucked as the tyre tracks went the length of the driveway.

"Memo to self" she muttered "do not drive with Ferrari girl."

As she hung out the window liberally blowing smoke rings she watched a scrawny looking girl put the top down on her car. She had bleached blond hair which hung lank down her back and had dark eyes. She looked like a heroin addict. William practically dived into the car with her. He sucked, instead of kissed her hand and couldn't take his eyes off her chest area (which was, grated, not apparent). He looked up at Elizabeth and waved for her to come down. She gave him the finger and sauntered away to find Charlotte.

"Who is the scrawny bird?"

"that would be Anne De Bourgh."

"The Anne De Bourgh?"

"Indeed."

"She's a bit fragile isn't she. Like you'd break her."

"Aye." Charlotte muttered. Anger at her husbands obvious groping of the young lady brought out the old accent.

Elizabeth couldn't stop thinking about the wide chest, broad shoulders and thick set muscles of Fitzwilliam Darcy compared to this fragile little thing. He'd probably break her with one hug.

"Isn't she coming in?"

"Na. She doesn't ever."

"Daft cow. Here. Have a fag and a tot or 10 of Vodka."

The pair got stuck straight into the vodka and Charlotte had a fag for the first time in years. William an in looking flushed and said in his patented pretentious voice:

"We have been invited to Lady Catherine De Bourgh's home tomorrow night for dinner. How lucky we are! It must be because of our wonderful guests, Maria and Mr. Lucas."

Walking away from Charlotte, who looked like she was about to bottle him, he stood above Elizabeth, who was so plastered now she was about to tell him he stank of BO said in a pretensions whisper:

"Now Elizabeth, you must be on you're best behaviour, or I will not allow you to go."

"Oh, go screw yourself." She muttered and vowed that tomorrow night she would show him up in every way possible.

Elizabeth and Charlotte got ready in the same room so they could have great slugs of Bacardi and smoke out the window.

Since William had asked Elizabeth not to wear anything too revealing she wore the most revealing skirt she could find. Since he asked her not to look her prettier than Anne De Bourgh she spent hours on her make up. Since he asked her to ensure she wasn't too drunk when she got there she ensured she had spent the day at the pub. Since he asked her not to smoke in case it agitated Anne's delicate lungs she smoked like a chimney and took a packet with her.

William was appalled. Elizabeth shut him up by blowing smoke in his face.

When William said they were to walk Elizabeth told him to get bent and Charlotte, Maria and Elizabeth clambered into a taxi leaving the men to walk through the mud and cow crap.

Charlotte was already brightening up. Since Elizabeth had arrived she had thrown out all her nunty clothes and purchased some nice Top-Shop clothes. She and Elizabeth had spent most the afternoon in the pub looking at the Next Directory and seemed to be cheering each other up.

Liz And Fitz Meet Again...

Posted on Tuesday, 23 November 1999

When they arrived at ' Rosings' the first thing Elizabeth thought was how garish it was. Like the cottage looked like a major crash had happened there between the fashionable and the unfashionable, Rosings seemed like a crash between the Chintz and the 'Yah, we like Oak furniture, but only if it has come from ancient tree's which were essential to the environment, yah' style.

Elizabeth just thought ick.

She got in and was met by a butler, who looked like he had seen better day's and was now finding them in the bottom of a bottle of Whisky.

As for Lady Catherine, well. She was a stout old thickset grey haired lady with the same penitence for chintz clothing as chintz wallpaper.

She was not best impressed when Elizabeth refereed to her as "You're most Royal Highness Miss Katie De Iceberg."

Maria was petrified. She thought that her most Royal Highness would eat her alive and digest her for a thousand years.

William Lucas was excited; to be in the presence of someone of such grandeur was amazing to him, as he was so frightfully posh.

He and William talked about the noble Lady's ancestors and breeding like she was a Labrador dog.

The food was terrible. Elizabeth, who eats anything put in front of her, balked at the sight of the food. Having grown used to endless Chinese's and Indian takeaway's (chicken only, Elizabeth despised the taste of red meat) she saw the plate of bloody mass and felt like shooting the chef. The only reason, in her highly inebriated state, she ate it was because she realised she was being an ungrateful cow and people were starving.

She was then noticed by Her Royal Highness as being a pretty looking girl. Elizabeth felt like a cow at the cattle yard.

"Do you have any sister's? I understand you have no brothers as you're father's business is to go to William Collins after you're father is dead. Is that because the eldest daughter is not capable?"

Elizabeth growled.

"If not, I am pleased for William's sake that she is not."

"Myself and my sister's (small lie, went unnoticed) are perfectly capable of running my father's business, it is just we have far more about us than wanting to go into it. Unlike the reverent Mr. Collins here we have a life."

He he he he he.

"Do you play and sing?"

"I play the Playstation and sing with a hair brush in front of a mirror when I'm pissed."

"You should try our computer. It is capital! Cost Ł4,000. If it weren't for Anne's delicate health she would be able to use one."

"Ł4,000? You were ripped off."

She lit up then, topping her ash into a crystal champagne glass. Anne looked shocked so Elizabeth offered her one.

"Do you paint?"

"Painted me back passage bottle green."

"Do you have a governess for the younger sisters?"

"What do you think this is? The 1700's? Me sister's are sluts, no one in the right mind would look after them anyway."

"Do you're younger sister's go 'clubbing'"

"Aye. You sure you don't want a fag Anne?"

"What? At 15?"

"Aye, ye deaf or somet?"

"How old are you?"

"20. How old are you? A million?"

Elizabeth realised that Lady Catherine Del Piero was not listening to a word she said. She could have continued in this manner for the rest of the night but Mr. Collins, red from his hairline to his boots (possibly due to sweat rather than sensibility. Actually, certainly due to sweat.) decided this was a good time to go home. Elizabeth shrugged and bade farewell to Lady Cuban sur Cigar.

Sir William stayed for less than a week as, although he was meant to stay for two he realised that being so frightfully rich meant he should see his mistress more.

He wasn't missed.

Elizabeth asked Charlotte why she spent most of her time living in the back room, when she answered:

"William can't see me in here, I have a lock on the door and a TV. I'm a bloody genius."

Elizabeth couldn't help but applaud her.

A day scarcely passed when Lady Clock de Tick didn't pass by and call Charlotte for eating fashionable food instead of crappy gravy covered congealed mass.

Easter was coming up soon and while Elizabeth was getting excited about Easter eggs and posting them to her cousins William was trying to explain to her that she must stop smoking and drinking as it was bad for her. She constantly told him to go screw himself with a nail hammer.

One day William ran into the room at night when Elizabeth was fighting with a bottle of Vodka trying to open it and drooling over Angel on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She was just about to tell him to open the bottle for her then throw himself into a lake when he gave her interesting intelligence.

"Elizabeth, do you remember Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

Fitzwilliam, mmm, let's see. Really sexy with interesting taste in tops? A heartbreaking crooked smile? Sexy car? Nice clothes? Hot body? Sexy droopy eyes? Basically an overall god with a devils personality? Similar to some Hellenistic Zeus?

"Wha?"

"He is coming to visit his aunt."

"Meh?"

"I must tell Charlotte."

He waddled off.

Elizabeth shrugged and went back to opening the bottle.

Within hours of his arrival Fitzwilliam came to visit. It was about 8 at night and Elizabeth and Charlotte had finally prevailed on William to let them go clubbing. He and his cousin, Squadron Leader Richard Fitzwilliam came in.

Elizabeth told the stunning Squadron Leader she liked his name. When he asked why she didn't feel at all stupid when she said:

"'Cause I quite fancy Sean Bean, and in Sharpe he's called Richard."

She heard Fitzwilliam choke.

Fitzwilliam wore a (why do I always go into great length and detail about his stupid clothes? I don't care. Don't even like him.) pair of nice black trousers and white crisp shirt which showed a spattering of black hair. The spattering of black hair made Elizabeth want to say "By the pattern of you're chest hair I may safely assume you are an excellent lover and would make a good life partner by keeping me entertained and being good with our offspring."

Of course, she didn't say that.

Dragging her eyes away from the hypnotic chest hair on Fitzwilliam she paid attention to Richard (can I call you Dick?)

He, like his cousin was a stunner. He had not inherited his unusual yet cool dress sense, obviously because he was an officer. He wore a nice suit and a white shirt. Very posh. Charlotte whispered he was an Earl and Elizabeth soon understood. She realised she must refer to him as Dick at all times from now on.

Dick had big pouty lips and a wide-eyed childish look about him. Jane would have adored him instantly but Elizabeth was too taken with his Cousin for any interest to develop.

Nonononononononono. Out with bad fancying Fitzwilliam thoughts.

For Fitzwilliam part he couldn't take his eyes of Elizabeth, something which Charlotte did not fail to notice. She had gained weight since he last saw her which had put much needed flesh on her bones. Her skin was beautiful and the way her eyes lit up when she smiled made him want to take her in his arms and set sail on the seven sea's.

He would have forced Richard to drag himself to the clubs with Elizabeth and Charlotte had it not been for his Aunt's forcing him to spend time with his cousin.

When the gentlemen left Charlotte and a slightly worse for wear Elizabeth made their way to the clubs where Charlotte took the mick out of Elizabeth for attracting the rich and gorgeous Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Elizabeth found herself spending several hours a day mooning about the house thinking about Fitzwilliam.

OK, not thinking, more, wondering.

OK, OK. She mooned about the house setting situations in which Fitzwilliam changed his personality and carried her off into the sunset.

Sad, I know.

They didn't see much of the handsome cousins except when Elizabeth skived out to the Off Licence to buy booze and Fags or when she went to put a bet on.

Well, Dick came to visit, and Elizabeth would try to moon about the house fantasising about him but every time, every situation the same ending came about. She would end up looking up into Fitzwilliam's big eyes and saying:

"Why yes, I understand totally that everything bad you have said and done was completely false. Yes, I would enjoy spending the rest of my life with you."

Gah! Must stop.

Part Somet or Other

Posted on Monday, 29 November 1999

Elizabeth and Charlotte were sat in the toilet at the cottage having a fag (William had banned cigs and booze from the house, so Elizabeth and Charlotte had taken to spending time in the upstairs loo) and a cup of tea when William banged on the door.

"Charlotte? You've been there for a long time. Hurry up. Do you know where Elizabeth is?"

"She's in here with me."

"Why?"

"'Cause Elizabeth is explaining the principles of Feng Shui to me."

"Oh. Well, we have been invited to Lady Catherines home tonight for dinner."

Elizabeth, who had been paying no attention to the conversation what so ever looked up from her fag and said, with a child like look in her eye:

"Does that mean we get to see Fitzwilliam?"

She then realised what she said.

"Um, I mean, does that mean I get to see, um, mmm..."

Charlotte had a smile on her face which grew as the sentence continued.

"Wanna see Fitzwilliam Elizabeth?"

"No!"

The grin continued.

Elizabeth decided to try and stay sober. (Not cause she wanted to impress Fitzwilliam. Just get fed up of drinking sometimes).

She failed miserably and downed several shots before hand. She also bought a pack of the stinkiest smokiest cigs she could find, had to be done now didn't it?

Again, the dinner was so undercooked Elizabeth was not sure whether to rescue it or wonder for how long she would be suffering with salmonella.

When the noble Lady Cateract de Boring decided it was time to sit around telling them what they were doing wrong in their lives and how to make their lives more like hers.

She spent most of the evening convincing Fitzwilliam that Anne was, in fact, the most wonderful person on the planet. The lack of any conversational skills, education and looks were irrelevant as she was rich.

Elizabeth didn't know why Lady Conker de Bonkers didn't just say 'Fitzwilliam, if you don't breed with my daughter I will be forced to circumcise you with a rusty nail. Yah.'

Dick was growing on Elizabeth. She found herself really enjoying his company and in Dick found a fellow Smirnoff Silver drinker.

For some reason they started talking about bands/singers they like. He asked her to play him a song, as Fitzwilliam had told him she could play.

She sat down at the piano (despite glares and growls from Lady Minger Du Winger and William) and started to play one of the three songs she new well.

As it happened, Dick was a huge fan of the Beatles, so Elizabeth played Imagine which was a huge hit.

As she started to play some Rolling stones (rival to Beatles, had to be done) she saw Fitzwilliam rise and leave Lady Fairy du Cake mid conversation. She refused to look into his deep sexy, dark, long lashed, drooping...

BAH!!! Must stop with Fitzwilliam fantasies.

However, Elizabeth realised she was gone, as she was on the party. Only one way out of this. Take the piss out of him.

"Ah, Fitzwilliam, since you got up I can now tell my cousin about you, as I would not talk about you behind you're back now."

He got a cheeky look on his face fished around in her handbag. Pulling out her cigs and a lighter he grinned stupidly at her.

A look which did not escape the notice of Charlotte or Dick.

"Do tell me what he was like in company he does not know." Squealed Dick.

"Ah, he was appalling. Within the first few minutes of us meeting he had insulted my looks, my dress sense, my ancestors dating back to the times of Julius Caesar and my choice of tipple..."

"I'm sure I did no such thing."

"Well, OK, you insulted my looks, but Caroline told you I dressed like I was a magpie."

"You do."

"Un true, just like glitter is all."

"See?"

"Bleh. Anyway. You refused to dance with anyone but Charles sister and refused to speak to me or my sister."

"I'm shy."

"Load of crap."

"Wait. So what you are saying is that my dear cousin Fitzwilliam would not dance with you? Fitzwilliam, you idiot." Dick said batting his cousin over the head with the back of his hand.

"No, I did dance with her."

"Yea. Just to show off what a tart I am."

That seemed to hurt him. He looked shocked. His face became a crumple of outrage.

He leaned forward, until his face was centimeters away from Elizabeth's and said, quietly so no one would hear.

"You are not a tart. I danced with you because I couldn't keep my eyes..."

"Fitzwilliam! What are you talking to Elizabeth about?" Screamed the evil bitch lady from hell.

"Music." He lied. Anger filling his features.

"Ooo, then let Anne join you. She would be a good musician had her health allowed."

CURRENT ANNE DE BURGER ACCOMPLISHMENTS: (if health allowed)

12 A'levels (all at A* in complicated difficult subjects.)

99 GCSE's (as above)

A degree, Masters and Phd in Quantum Physics with art (to be girly.)

Able to play, write music for and sing a piano.

Able to speak 105 languages fluently.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and continued playing. Fitzwilliam lit the stolen fag and handed it to Elizabeth. Then he lit one for himself.

But Elizabeth still didn't like Fitzwilliam.

Honest.

Part Vingt Cinq Neuf (No idea what that means or if it is spelt right...)

Posted on Tuesday, 30 November 1999

The next morning Elizabeth and an enormous hangover decided to spend the day sat around smoking and drinking endless cups of tea.

Maria, Charlotte and William had gone somewhere to do something, so Elizabeth started to read the coolest book she could find. It sickened her half to death to find it was Bridget Jones' diary.

She had read the book before, and loved it too. The only thing that upset her about it was that poor Bridget didn't tell you what happened with her and Mark Darcy...

Oh crap. Wasn't supposed to think about him.

As if the fates were playing a cruel game with Elizabeth that day Fitzwilliam and Fitzwilliam alone walked in.

He seemed shocked to find her alone, but at the same time happy.

After making idle inquiries which were ignored by each as were glaring openly at each other Elizabeth remembered her manners and said:

"You left Netherfield early didn't you?"

Before he could answer Elizabeth handed him a mug of tea, cursing the day she forgot to bring her giant novelty oversized cups.

"Yes. Business, suff like that."

"How's Chares."

"All right. He bought a Jaguar and has been fixing it up."

"A Jag? Jane loves Jag's..."

She saw the shocked look on his face and remembered why she hated him.

He split Charles and Jane up!

"Will he return to Netherfield?"

"I do not know."

"He should give it up then."

"Yes."

Elizabeth got fed up of him now. She stopped talking and lit 2 smokes, she gave one to him for no reason at all.

"Charlotte and your cousin seem happy."

She nearly choked on the filter.

"At least she is near her family."

"Near? It's 50 miles home. She could hardly commute."

He stood up and came to sit with her on the couch. Again, he leaned into her. She half expected him to kis...

NONONONONONONONONO!!!!!Bad thought-go! Don't want him!!

She half expected him to talk to her.

Better.

"Would you like to be near you're family?"

"Just me dad and Jane."

"How far away would you go?"

"I live in Oxford, you forget. Wherever I could get a decent job I suppose."

"What if you didn't need a job?"

"I'm not rich and powerful, Mr. Darcy. I will always need a job."

He looked deep into her eyes, his face went all queer like and he started to look kind of sexy...

BAH! Must stop this.

"Mmm. What if..."

He was interrupted by Charlotte bursting through the door with an arm-full of Off license bags and dry cleaning. She stopped dead at the sight of Fitzwilliam practically snogging Elizabeth.

He left soon after.

"Did ya snog him Elizabeth?"

"NO!"

"Bet he wanted to snog you!"

"Shut up. I'm off for a fag and a drink."

She locked herself in the bog.

Now, I'm sure you all have occasional conversations with you're brain. I bet you're brains dispense advice. Not Elizabeth's brain. Hers takes the piss out of her.

BRAIN: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What you gonna do now. You fancy Fitzwilliam!

Elizabeth: I do not! I grant you, he is sexy in a rich boy with a nice body and floppy hair kind of way. But he is a git. I do not like him at all!!!

BRAIN: Liar!

Elizabeth: Shut up! Or I will kill you with Nicotine and Alcohol.

BRAIN: The amount you've had, wouldn't surprise me.

Elizabeth: BAH! You mock me with you're meanness.

BRAIN: Hey! We're one of the same me and you. Be nice and I'll release some pheromones.

Elizabeth: You'll only do that when I'm near Fitzwilliam.

BRAIN: Good idea.

Then Elizabeth punched her head.

"Ow!"

BRAIN: That'll learn you.

Elizabeth took to mooning around the park as when she mooned about the house Charlotte sung:

"Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Elizabeth sobering up, quitting smoking and baring several children in manner of useless, overeducated housewife."

She had met Fitzwilliam a couple of times when sauntering. He insisted on escorting her home and spent much time asking dumb questions like:

"When will you finish you're degree?"

"Is that you're real hair colour?"

"Would you be so good as to come to live with me? I have a big house with a pond. Well, it's more like a lake. I'll buy you a Porche."

Well, she made up that last one.

She started to play mind games with him and go walking at odd hours, such a 3am. 5 am. 12.24-12.37 and other such stupid times, he was always there!!!!!

Not that she wanted to see him. Na. didn't even like him.

One day she sat in the park with her laptop connected to her mobile phone. She was on the internet with Jane. The only chat room they could access was Coolchat. Bleh.

The conversation went thus:

Elizabeth: Hey Jane, u OK?

Jane: Aye. Finished Thesis 2.

Elizabeth: Nice one mate! It's dire here. I got Fitzwilliam Darcy stalking me!

PYRO(private message): Wanna Cyber?

Elizabeth(private message back to Pyro): Go screw yourself.

Jane: I keep getting freaks PM-ing me.

Elizabeth: Me too! Tell them to go screw themselves.

Jane: I did. He said that was the intention.

Elizabeth: ew!!!

Jane: AHHHHHHHHH!!! I HATE coolchat!!!

Elizabeth: U seen Charles?

Jane: NO!! Hes a git.

Elizabeth: Aye.

Elizabeth: I'm off. I'm on me mobile.!

Jane: Me too. Bye Elizabeth!

Elizabeth: Bye Jane!

Just then she felt a presence behind her. Assuming it was Fitzwilliam she pointedly started looking at pics of Ewan McGregor in a kilt and nothing else when Sqn Leader Fitzwilliam pressed her shoulder.

"Hello Elizabeth. Haven't seen you about for a few days. What you doing?"

"I was trying to talk to me sister in a public chat room."

"Big mistake."

"Aye."

"Want me to walk you home?"

"That I do."

He took her laptop bag and flung it over his shoulder.

"What a Gent."

"Aye. That I am."

For some reason, they started talking about Fitzwilliam. She said, in the most sarcastic voice she could muster, that he was a great friend to Charles.

"Yes. He is good to Charles. Just a few months ago she saved him from a bad match with a girl."

A girl... Jane? Bad match? Mleph?

"Of course, I don't know what exactly happened, but apparently this girl had a terrible family and wanted Charles for his money."

That SOB!!! I'll kill him.

"Excuse me, Dick. But I must get home ASAP."

"Why?"

"I don't feel well."

He saw her in just as the rest were leaving to see Lady C. When William started shouting at her for being tardy she was about to punch him when Dick cut in, saying she was ill and needed to get rest.

As they disappeared over the great blue yonder Elizabeth sat down, started to chain smoke a carton of Regals and drink a bottle of Vodka, adding coke later.

When Elizabeth was legless and nearly out of smokes the door bell rang. She answered the door, hoping that it was Dick saying he had dueled Fitzwilliam, and fatally wounded him for the honour of Jane and Elizabeth.

With a burning stub in her mouth and a bottle in her hands she opened the door to the face of one Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Had she been sober she would have flung the bottle in his face and beat him up. But she just stared dumbly, as if she expected him to apologise.

Without a word he came in, looking flustered. He took the bottle from her. Poured himself a glass, knocked it back in one and lit a smoke.

"I didn't smoke until I met you."

"Smoke yourself to death. I don't care."

He laughed. The git laughed!!!!

"I, Elizabeth, I need, I must... um.. see, for a while I kinda... Mmm."

"Am I meant to comprehend that drivel, Sir?"

"See, the thing is... Elizabeth, I, I?"

"WHAT!" she growled.

"Damn it, why can't I tell you I love you!"

"Meh?"

"Elizabeth, since the day I met you I loved you. You're stunning, funny, you're so, different."

Again. Meh?

She could not believe it. She was insulted to the very core, that a man who felt her sister was not good enough for his friend thought Elizabeth was good enough for him.

"I know my family will think I've gone mad. I mean, were so different. I'm all prudence and decorum and you're all, well, booze and fags. And our families! They are so different! You're mother would die! Elizabeth, say something. Please." He took her hand. She could not speak, such was the rage. He took this as a promising sign and walked over to her, kneeled in front of her, took her hands and leant over to kiss her...

The Rubber T Shirt Years...

Posted on Wednesday, 1 December 1999

As his lips touched hers she froze. He leant in for deeper kiss, his soft lips pressing hers.

He took her in his arms, his strong body pressing close to hers. He tilted her head to get a better position.

Then she realised what she was doing.

She was kissing Fitzwilliam Darcy.

AND SHE ENJOYED EVERY DAMN SECOND!!

She gave him a hefty push away. He looked incredulous and came towards her to kiss her again. This time she got mad.

With one drunken, clenched fist she aimed his perfect face and sent him flying.

He landed on his back having smashed the half full bottle of Vodka. This made her mad.

Real mad.

"You damn $%#@%$ ^&%$$! How dare you storm in here, tell me you love me and expect me to respond to your advances! After what you did to my sister! You bastard."

"What?"

"How dare you? How could you possibly think that I wanted anything to do with you? You are the worst person I have ever met."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You have destroyed the lives of 2 people I know, I daren't think how many other's."

"Who's lives?"

"Jane's. My own flesh and blood. You knew Charles was getting close to her, you knew he wanted her, and yet you dragged him away. You dragged him away because you couldn't see beyond her family. And as for Peter Wickham. Well, you destroyed his life good and proper now ain't ye? You were jealous because he was everything you weren't. He has to serve in the damn military because you wanted the money your father left him, you selfish, greedy %$#$@."

"Elizabeth, you are being irrational."

"Damn you! You think I will find no one better than you, don't you? You think I am weak, pathetic and useless."

She drew herself up to her full height and stood so close to him she could have counted the hair up his nose.

"Well, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I am twice the man you will ever be. You are the most arrogant, conniving man I have ever seen. I wouldn't spit on you if you were dying of thirst. Get out of my sight!"

He glowered at her for a moment, cradling his swollen eye. With a final look he stormed out the house and got so drunk he wasn't seen until about 10am the following morning at Rosings, having spent the night in a ditch.

The next day Elizabeth was sat in the back garden, still in a state of shock, smoking like it was healthy and slugging tea with no milk or sugar. Charlotte just thought she was due on her period.

Having been kicked out of the garden for smoking Elizabeth decided to mosey on to the pubs. Grabbing her purse and a big sun hat she set off.

It was about 12:30 and the sun was shining. She put her huge floppy straw sun hat on her head and skipped along.

She must still be feeding off yesterday's booze fest.

As she got into the pub she purchased (OK-'Cadie here. Humor me from now on, and when ever you say Purchased say it like PURR-CHASED) a pint of Flowers and a pack of peanuts. She started to play pool with herself.

After about 20 minutes she had supped her pint and was still playing pool when in front of her a glass of Vodka and Coke was placed. She looked up and saw Fitzwilliam.

He looked terrible. His eye was swollen and he looked like he had been dragged though a ditch (which, in fact he had). His clothes were hanging off him and his shoes were scuffed.

Her mothering instinct suddenly kicked in and a voice inside her said "you appear to be disheveled and cold and in need of a good feed, let me take you home and wrap you in cotton wool and play with you as if you were a small kitten."

"Elizabeth, I apologise for disturbing you. Please, read this. It may make you see me differently."

"Doubt it, mate."

"Please Elizabeth, I ask little."

With a lingering gaze he walked out of the pub.

She inhaled the Vodka he had bought her and settled down to read the letter.

Dearest Elizabeth:

I know that on receiving this you may take another swing at me, and I wish I could say this to you're face. However, explaining one black eye was bad enough, another and Richard may go looking for someone to beat up.

I want to clear myself of the accusations you so richly flung at me (along with you're fist) and explain my part in the destruction of the lives of you're sister and Peter.

First, you're sister. From the second I saw her I knew Charles would like her. She is just his type, so it seemed logical. They seemed to be friendly, and it warmed my heart to see Charles with a girl I thought he may settle down with. However, at Charles party (where I realised, by the way, that I wanted you more than I wanted world domination) where Sir William pointed out that Charles and Jane seemed to get on a bit too well.

I had to abandon you then, Elizabeth, I was so close to telling you about Peter, then asking you to join me in a moonlight walk, but I was infatuated with watching them.

On Charles part, he was obviously mad for her. But you're sister, though she liked him did not seem attracted to him.

That night I asked Charles point blank if he had even kissed Jane, he had not.

Elizabeth, you must see my point. In our modern world when we like someone, we express it. I kissed you because I wanted to express my intense fondness, no, that's not the right word, love, for you.

Jane and Charles had ample opportunity to get together. Charles is not shy. As far as I could see, Jane was probably infatuated with Charles to a degree but did not feel attracted to him!

You probably believe me to be lying. I am not. That is what I thought. Honestly.

You know you're sister better than me. If she was in love with him, then it is my wrong. I will probably burn in hell. Myself and Caroline and Louisa sat him down and told him this, he soon relented and left you all.

As for Peter. Well. By the end of this you will know why I hate him.

I have known him since I was a child; we did everything together. I didn't realise the sort of person he was until my Daddy (as I have heard you call you're father) sent us to university.

We shared a set of rooms in Cambridge. Every night he brought home a new woman and discarded her the next day, leaving behind him a trail of broken hearts and 3 children.

By the way, his children are not looked after by him, but by his hefty trust fund which was removed from him by the courts.

He has never seen any of them.

He intended to go to work for a bank as an investment specialist, but this was foolish. I wouldn't have trusted him with me dirty pants let alone my money.

When he got his degree he disappeared for 2 months.

When he returned to Pemberley (my house) he asked for the money my father had left him to get a masters degree. I asked him if he was going to do his masters. He said he wanted to go to India and travel. I gave him Ł20,000 and asked him never to darken my doorstep again.

Three years later my sister, Georgiana went to boarding school in London and was put in the care of Gemma Younge.

Soon after she was sent away (out of choice mind) she met Peter.

Peter had been good to Georgiana as a child. She remembered his kindness and soon found herself persuaded to love him.

They decided to marry the second she was 16, but Peter was eager and took her to Gretna Green, where Gemma posed as her mother.

Before they were married Georgiana told me her plan and myself and Richard (whom I am in joint custody of Georgiana with) were able to talk some sense into Georgiana and beat the sense out of Peter.

Peter did not love my sister, rather he loved the trust fund she could cash in when she was married which I reckon at some Ł200,000.

He also wanted revenge on me.

Elizabeth, my sister was just 15. She had hardly smoked her first fag or started boozing on street corners.

I can now think of no more to say. I hope that if we ever meet again (hope!!) we will be able to look into each others eye and see forgiveness in the other.

Good-bye Elizabeth. Hopefully not forever.

Fitzwilliam Darcy.

"Oh crap, What is I to do now???"

The Truth Hurts. So Does A Hangover...

Posted on Monday, 6 December 1999

Elizabeth stood in the pub with a stupid look on her face.

A really stupid look on her face.

"Oh crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap!!"

She walked over to the bar, ordered a straight whisky and knocked it back.

She ran over the park at full flank. Tears brimmed at her eyes. Mud covered her legs and her hat had long blown away.

She fell over and landed in a puddle. Her shirt was now covered in mud and her hair was knotted.

When she got back to the cottage she found Dick sat in the living room. He took one look at her and before William could castrate her for not waiting outside he ran upstairs and got her a towel.

She had to concoct a white lie to explain the state she was in. Charlotte and Dick didn't believe a word of it though.

William thought she was on something.

She ran into her room, smoked a packet of fags and had a good cry.

Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she cried. Possibly it was when she got her A'Level results, but those were tears of happiness. These were tears of sadness.

She decided to go into a chat room to see if she could find Jane, as the phone was engaged.

When she got in she was abused from the word go.

Elizabeth: Hello. Is everyone All right?

Sophie: Yes.

Alison: So, anyway, Soph, like I said, my man just dumped me cause he wants another woman.

Elizabeth: Is Jane here?

Alison: No, Jane isn't here.

Elizabeth: Just asking.

Sophie: What is it with men?

Elizabeth: Men are pigs. One minute they are meanies and the next they are angels.

Alison: Who asked you?

Elizabeth: just making conversation.

Alison: well don't

Elizabeth: Is it just me or are you a total b&^%h?

Alison: What?

Elizabeth: Did you have to go to b&^%h finishing school?

Alison: Who the hell do you think you are?

Elizabeth: I am you're god, bow down to me. I can see why you're bloke dumped you.

Then she went, in a mood as black as Mary's Doc Martin's.

The next day they went to a good-bye dinner at Lady Ha, your nephew wants me and not your scrawny kid! De breeds bad children's house.

Elizabeth was in such a mood she hadn't even bothered to get cigs or get drunk. Instead she just stayed quiet and had Fitzwilliam fantasies.

Lady Jive Mistress C started harping on the second they entered.

"Oh, and such attachment from my Fitzwilliam, how he loves to see Anne. He could barely keep away from her. When will you go?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"How will you travel?"

"Via winged beast."

"Jolly good. Do you have any accompaniment?"

"The tooth fairy and the Easter bunny."

"My servant could accompany you."

"He may try to molest me."

Thus the stupid conversation continued. Luckily she saw that Lady Stupid del Cow started shouting at Charlotte for not wearing enough clothes. Anne excused herself and went to the bathroom. Elizabeth followed as she needed to blow her nose on the posh towels and steal the soap. She waited outside the loo that Anne went in. When Anne vacated she sauntered in.

While in the bathroom Elizabeth did what all self respecting depressed woman would do. She rifled through the cabinets.

She found a bottle of Prozac, Vitamin pills, sleeping pills, stay awake pills, uppers, downers, Anabolic Steroids (why she so scrawny? Why oh why?) allergy pills, Michael Jackson style face masks, Laxatives, everything. No wonder she looked like a heroin addict, she practically was! All the potions and lotions were prescribed to Anne.

When she had blown her nose on the towels and stolen the toothbrushes and soap she returned only to find everyone was leaving. With her new booty she had ripped off she was pretty pleased, until she got in the offered Limo and found a rubber band.

Bloody Fitzwilliam.

The morning Elizabeth was about to leave she was accosted by William over her Count Chocula.

"I do hope at some point you will thank Charlotte for her kindness."

"Yea."

"You have been a welcome addition, Elizabeth. It is always good to have you visit. I hope this is the first of many. Have you had a good time?"

"Oh, aye, that I have, it's been, interesting."

"Good, good."

He started harping on about the gracious Lady marvelous de ace and how lucky he was to sort out her taxes. Elizabeth stopped listening and gained the stupid look.

As Elizabeth was about to get into the car that was to convey them to London she wrapped her arms around Charlotte.

"Come see me in September. I'll be in a new flat at Oxford. There's always a bed if you need it!"

"Thanks Elizabeth. But I made my bed, now I must lie in it."

"Charlotte" Said Elizabeth in a moment of obscure clarity. "You won't lie in it, you'll die in it."

And after a few more thank you's and good-bye's they went.

After a few minutes quiet down time Maria sighed, "I've got loads of gossip for the girls back at St. James."

"And I have loads for Jane." Elizabeth added.

Elizabeth and Jane both traveled from London together, Maria having been dropped off at the school she was at. In the car they hardly said a word, beyond normal gossip. Elizabeth hadn't said a word about Fitzwilliam, as she was scared and didn't want to admit she liked him.

Mainly cause she didn't.

Yep, that's right, no Fitzwilliam fancying from Elizabeth.

None at all.

BRAIN: Are you still lying to yourself?

Elizabeth: NO!

BRAIN: Elizabeth, get over it. You fancy Fitzwilliam. It's not a crime, he's attractive, he would be a good mate.

Elizabeth: Shut up brain.

BRAIN: Make me. And get me some tuna. I like fish.

Shortly after the above conversation Elizabeth, for some inexplicable reason pulled up to a supermarket and demanded a tuna sandwich.

Their arrival home was marked by a sudden mobile beep. It was Lydia demanding they meet her and Kitty in the McDonalds.

When Elizabeth and Jane walked into the poky little grease pit she found Lydia and Kitty arguing over a happy meal.

"Jane! Elizabeth! Hiya! Are you OKAY?"

"Yea, Lyd. What's up?"

"Are you both Still single?"

A collective "YESSSSS." was hissed.

"Well, me and Kitty are too. The RAF Squadron is to be disbanded and moved to, of all places, Brighton!"

Elizabeth started paying attention.

"You're kidding."

"NO! They are leaving! We will be alone!"

"Not the end of the world sis."

"It is! Anyway. Remember Mary King?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, Peter no longer has anything to do with her. She has moved away!"

"Oh, that's a terrible shame if she liked him." Muttered Jane, who too well knew the feeling of loss.

"Don't know what he saw in the minger anyway. She was just a ginga little meph."

"What?" shouted Elizabeth.

"I said she was a minger."

"Watch that mouth." Elizabeth shouted, mauling into her.

Elizabeth picked at her fries, pushing the burger aside as she didn't eat red meat.

Soon enough, they were back in the car like sardines in a tin.

"Look at this new dress I bought." Called Lydia, holding up a frock that took up 37% of the car.

"Bleh, it's hideous." Elizabeth said, staring at the purple monstrosity.

"Oh, well, I thought I'd buy it anyway." Lydia sang in a tone of perfect unconcern.

"How much?" asked Jane.

"Ł230."

"What! You money waster."

The argument continued until they got home.

Through the day and night Lydia talked about Peter and how she hoped that her Mam and dad would let her go to Brighton for the summer. After a short conversation with her father she found out that the talk of Lydia going to Brighton was serious, as she and Wing Commander Forster's wife were best good mates.

Right now, though, Elizabeth had more important things to talk about.

She went into the kitchen in the dead of the night and gathered the following ingredients:

Coffee (lots of, black)
Vodka (as above, except transparent)
Cream(Some, not much)
glasses(2).

At this point, Elizabeth decided to show what a cocktail goddess she was by making a famous White Russian. She filled the glasses a quarter with coffee, topping up with Vodka (Although she kept drinking it) and a splash of cream.

She walked into Jane's room with the glasses, a packet of cigs and a heavy heart.

Giving Jane a Hefty boot she settled down.

"Wha? Elizabeth? What want? Ooo, white Russian. All forgiven."

"Jane. I have something to tell you."

"What's that Elizabeth?" she asked, inhaling her drink and lighting up.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy told me he loved me."

"Wha? Oh what! What happened."

"Well, he came to see me, and told me he loved me."

"Are you an item!?!?"

"No."

"What?"

"Well. I thought he had wronged Peter."

"Oh, I forgot about that. Fitzwilliam is a geek"

"But I was wrong."

"Wha?"

She related the Peter seducing young Georgiana Darcy, having three kids he never sees and being a basic git story.

"You are kidding. Elizabeth?"

"I ain't."

"And to think he had us fooled."

"Yea, I can't wait to tell everyone..."

"No! Don't, he is leaving soon. Then he will not matter."

"Yea, I guess."

"Elizabeth?"

"Aye?"

"Do you love Fitzwilliam now?"

BRAIN: Tell the truth Elizabeth!!

"No. But I wish I could call him a friend."

BRAIN: You're getting there kidda!

---