Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

The nurse dabbed away with the sponge at Wickham’s shoulder. He winced in pain, but did not flinch.

“You have a gentle touch, nurse,” he said. “What is your name?”

There was the slightest hesitation, which Wickham found rather fetching. “I am Nurse Hathaway,” she said.

“Ah, Hathaway!  Such a pretty name,” said Wickham. “But do you have a Christian name as well?”

The girl gave a tinkly little laugh. “Yes, sir, of course I do. My name is Jane.”

“Another pretty name. Two pretty names, in fact, for the price of one. Come here: let me see you again, and verify that the person is indeed as pretty as her label.”

The girl stepped in front of Wickham. “I fear that I do not look very becoming in this uniform,” she said.

“Oh, no, I assure you that you are most becoming, Jane,” said Wickham. “Most becoming. In fact I think I shall call you Becoming Jane.”

“Anyway, sir, I am finished. How are you feeling now?”

“To tell the truth, I feel a little stiffness coming on.”

The nurse rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know something?” she said, “You were doing so well up until then. But that line was as cheesy as Mrs Steadman’s Stinking Bishop. Get your shirt back on, the Colonel’ll be here in a minute. I’ll be seeing you.”

Wickham tried to think of something witty to say, but all he could come up with was “Er …”

“ER?”

“Er … I’ll be seeing you too, then, Nurse Hathaway,” he said.

As Wickham was pulling on his shirt, Colonel Sutherland stepped into the room.

“Ah, Wickham, my man!” he said. “How are you, me old fellah? You took a bit of a risk last night.”

“Sir? My injury is a mere scratch. And I assure you that old Squiddy is no match for Wickham’s flashing blade …”

“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it. I was talking about the Darcy woman.”

“You know my views on this, sir. Mrs Elizabeth Darcy is central to our future strategy. Without her, yes, we may ultimately prevail. But many lives will be lost, and many great families will be corrupted and destroyed. With her working alongside us, we shall surely defeat this scourge before the year is out.”

“I understand. But are you sure that your judgement is not clouded by past fancies?”

Wickham sighed and shook his head. “No sir. Elizabeth is married now …”

“To a man you hate!”

“No, sir, I do not hate Darcy. Darcy hates me, it is true, for what happened to his sister. Perhaps one day he will learn what I did …”

“What you did to save her? She was still Probed, Wickham, and for that we can never forgive ourselves.”

“I know, sir. I know.”

“So did you tell her about Lydia?”

“I told her as much as I felt able.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t go raising her hopes too much.” He was silent for a moment. “It’s a damnable business, it really is.”

“But with Elizabeth helping us …”

“No, not yet.” Colonel Sutherland held up his hand. “We have other fish to fry. We have picked up some intelligence about some unusual goings-on in the East End of London. Women disappearing, reports of apparitions, that sort of thing. Now of course, that kind of thing probably goes on all of the time there, but something tells me there’s more to it than meets the eye. I want you to go there under cover and see what you can find out. When you get back, then we can resume the search for Agent Lydia. With or without her big sister.”