Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

The man with no name reined in his horse and dismounted, preferring to walk the last few hundred yards of his journey. He needed to feel the earth beneath his feet. Even though it was dusk, he knew where he was now: the old field. He unstrapped the saddle and took it off. He leaned close to Harley’s ear and whispered:

“Go, boy, go! You’ve been a good companion to me, you … you old big brown beastie with your big brown face. I’d rather be with you than – ” He stopped. The horse was giving him an odd look, as if he was trying to work out what on earth the peculiar human was on about. Then it gave a horsey shrug and trotted off into the night. The man with no name smiled to himself and turned back towards his ultimate destination.

Walking on, he soon came to the lake. For a moment, he had an urge to throw off all of his clothes and dive in – to feel the chill of the water against his flesh, and then to roll naked on the grass afterwards, like that time when he had wrestled in front of that blazing log fire with … or was his fractured memory deceiving him? The more he thought about it, that didn’t sound quite right.

In any case, the water looked bloody freezing.

He continued on into the twilight, until he could see the great house in front of him. There were lights blazing everywhere and sounds of music and merriment. I know this place, he thought to himself. I know these people! This is where I belong. He began to run now. He was laughing. He was smiling. He was happy.

He was almost there now. He just had to cross this last field and he would be there. His journey had not been in vain after all. All the privations he had suffered over the last few days were nothing to him now. All was joy. All was bliss.

As he reached the mansion, he could see that there was an altercation in progress. There was a man who looked oddly familiar remonstrating with two footmen. From time to time, he would point towards the roof, as if there was something there that shouldn’t have been. Then the angry man turned and went back into the house.

The man with no name walked on until he could feel the satisfying crunch of his feet on the gravel. As he neared the house, the two footmen, who had been arguing with each other, turned towards him. He waved at them.

“Hello! It’s – ”

“It’s him!” said one of them to the other. In perfect unison, they both frowned, turned in the direction of the house, shook their heads and looked back at him.

“Of course it’s me,” said the man with no name.

“But you’re – ” said the younger of the two footman.

“– in – ” said the older one.

“ – there?” said the younger one, scratching his head.

“What on earth do you mean?” said the man with no name, looking down at himself. “I rather think you’ll find that I’m – ”

“No, sir,” said the younger footman. “Begging your pardon, sir, but we just saw you go in there. ’Twas definitely – ”

“Now look here – ” said the man with no name, advancing on the pair.

The older one put his hand on the younger one’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Funny things happen in the dark, don’t they?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Like I said, doesn’t matter, laddie. Important thing is, he’s here now. So what can we do for you, sir?”

He stood there for a moment, immobile. There was still something important that he hadn’t worked out yet. It was on the tip of his tongue, but it was still elusively out of reach.

“This is going to sound a bit odd,” he said, finally. “But I’m just wondering if you could perhaps remind me … who I am?”

The two men exchanged glances again.

“Why sir,” said the older one, with a smile. “You’re Mr Darcy. That’s who you are. Mr Darcy.”

It was as if a bolt of lightning had hit him. Of course. That’s exactly who he was. He was Mr Darcy. And he was home at last.