Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

Mary Ann Nicholls paced up and down her cell. She glanced up at the figurine on the cross on the wall. “Listen mate,” she said. “I think you need to have words with some of the people what run this establishment of yours. The food’s crap, the service is terrible and the furnishings could do with a once over. And I really don’t know where the Probes fit into it, either. Actually, I know exactly where they fit, come to think of it.” She paused and adjusted her undergarments.

There was a rap on the cell door.

“Surrogate Nicholls! Prepare for inspection!” came a voice from the corridor outside. The door opened and a large woman in her late forties came in.

“Look, can I just say,” said Mary Ann, “If it’s the Probe again, could you perhaps warm it up this time?”

“Silence, surrogate Nicholls,” said the woman. “Come with me.” The woman seized hold of Mary Ann and frog-marched her out of the cell, down the corridor into an office at the end. She recognised the man at the desk as Mr Collins. At last. A chance to speak with the management.

“Ah, Mr Collins. I’ve been wanting to have a word with you – ”

“Silence!” shouted the woman again.

Mr Collins looked up at her and winced. He shook his head slightly. “It’s all right, Mrs Pike,” he said, “I’ll deal with this now.”

Mrs Pike muttered something under her breath and then let go of Mary Ann. Then she turned around and marched out of the room.

“So, Mary Ann Nicholls,” said Mr Collins. “How are we settling in at the Mission?”

“Well, as I was saying – ”

“Good, good,” said Mr Collins, waving his hand. “Good.” He paused, looked up at Mary Ann and put the tips of his fingers together and then brought both hands up to his lips. For a moment, he appeared to go into a trance, and then just as quickly snapped out of it. “Miss Nicholls, as you will be aware from the bible study that you have been engaged with in the past week, the Lord moves in mysterious ways.”

“Sorry?”

“And it seems that you have been Chosen.”

“Chosen?” For an instant, Mary Ann wondered why Chosen had a capital letter. Then she realised that she had no idea what a capital letter was and put the thought from her mind.

“Yes, Chosen. In fact, the reason why I’ve brought you here this evening is to meet a very special person.”

“Father Christmas?” said Mary Ann, hopefully. That was usually what they meant when they talked about a very special person. Although it usually turned out to be some old tramp with bad breath.

“No, not Father Christmas, Mary Ann. But he is very special indeed. And he is very keen to meet you.”

“Hang on a minute,” said Mary Ann. “I think I know where this is going. And if you think anyone’s going to get any without paying for it …”

Mr Collins looked aghast. “Oh, good Lord, no. Good Lord, no. I mean to say … no, no, no. The very suggestion – ”

“Perhaps I can explain,” said a new voice. A proud, arrogant voice. Mary Ann turned and watched as the newcomer entered the room behind her. He was dressed in the finest clothing, the hair was perfectly coiffeured and he had the bearing of true aristocracy. She stared at him, open-mouthed. She’d seen a few nobs in her time, but this man was something else.

“S-sir?” was all she managed to say.

“But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Darcy. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”