Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

Elizabeth jerked awake from a surprising dream involving a lot of tentacles, and for a moment wasn’t quite sure where she was. Then the rocking motion of the carriage brought it back to her. She was accompanying Charlotte on her journey back to Rosings, partly because the poor girl wasn’t safe to be let out on her own, but mainly to get a chance to have a proper look at the place again. There was clearly something odd going on there, and in the continuing absence of Wickham, she felt duty-bound to investigate it herself. She hardly dared hope that it might lead her to Lydia.

Charlotte dozed in the opposite seat, snoring loudly and occasionally muttering odd comments about albatrosses. Poor thing, thought Elizabeth. She used to be such a nice, dull person, and now she was full of the raving madness. It was almost lunchtime, so she reached into the hamper next to her and looked to see what cook had packed for them. There were several cuts of cold meat, along with some of Farmer Olivier’s notorious pork pies – which were mainly there in order to ward off attacks by highwaymen. There were also some of those new-fangled bread creations made popular by their use in Italian gambling parlours, invented by the Duce di Ciabatta.

Charlotte stirred and opened her eyes. For several seconds they were completely vacant, and then a sheen of pain descended over them.

“Are you all right, my dear?” said Elizabeth.

“I feel a bit poorly,” said Charlotte. “My humours are out of balance, and I am in need of the fur of the spaniel.”

“I understand,” said Elizabeth, not understanding a word of what her friend was saying. “You must eat, though.”

“I cannot. See – it is crawling with worms! The stench of evil corruption!”

“Are you sure?” Elizabeth took another look in the hamper. “I think you may perhaps be mistaken, for I perceive that there are no worms therein, my dear.”

“There!” screamed Charlotte, pointing at Elizabeth. “The spiders are coming for me! The spiders! Five-foot high, sixteen-legged spiders!”

Elizabeth held up her hand. “One moment, please: you confuse me. Could we first decide whether the problem is related to worms or spiders – ?”

“Albatross! Get this albatross off me – ”

“Ah. We seem to be back to albatrosses. Perhaps I should begin again. I’ve got some exceptionally diverting Italian bready things here, some perfectly fine pork pies – ”

“– they’re crawling over me – ”

Charlotte stood up and grabbed hold of the carriage door. Before Elizabeth could do anything, she opened it and leant out.

“Aaagh! The ground moves!” she screamed, looking down. “It’s alive! The wildebeest are upon us!”

By now, Elizabeth was standing behind her, and she managed to pull Charlotte back into the carriage, closing the door again. Charlotte sagged down into her seat. Elizabeth took hold of her hands and looked her firmly in the eye.

“Charlotte,” she said. “Take a few deep breaths. Count to ten. With me. All right? One … two … three … four …” Charlotte joined in, silently mouthing the words and nodding with intense concentration every time.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“It will get easier,” said Elizabeth, more out of hope than any real knowledge. “It will.”

“I know,” said Charlotte. “Especially when the spiders leave me alone.”

Elizabeth sighed deeply, and rummaged in the hamper for something to give to her. She hoped that the poor girl might be better on a full stomach. Yes, that was what she needed.

“Cold turkey?” she said.