Dancing With Mr. Darcy: Stories Inspired by Jane Austen and Chawton House Library by Sarah Waters Read Free Book Online Page A

model of the cathedral made out of colour-coded blocks to show when each bit had been added. We make our own design with a red turret, a blue east wing and an orange vestry.
    Afterwards we go to Tesco’s. There are no small shops anymore, only enormous buildings where you can buy everything. We mess about, talking loudly and laughing and Aidan knocks packets of spaghetti off the shelf. People frown at us as if we are drunk. Then Aidan stares at a pretty girl with dark hair. When we pass her a second time he stands transfixed. We walk back across the quay and he says that the girl was a runner-up in Miss Scotland. ‘Really?’ I say. ‘I didn’t notice.’
    Aidan races up and down the stairs. All this rushing. He reminds me of Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate. It’s the part when Dustin Hoffman is on a date with the girl he really likes, but he’s charging off in front of her and she can hardly keep up. He leads her into a strip joint (where women dance around bare-breasted in a suggestive manner. You wouldn’t believe it, but this was Women’s Rights in the 20 th century). Dustin Hoffman gawps at the naked women, and the expression of the girl shows her confusion and hurt. I should explain that we have things called Films. They are a little bit like looking at a mirror filled with the reflections of people acting out scenes, like in a play – but you can watch it all and it seems real. If only you could see your Mr Darcy, Jane. He’s been in two film versions of Pride and Prejudice, and you’d be hard-pressed to choose between Colin Firth and Matthew Macfadyen. They’re both dark eyed and smouldering.

    It’s the end of my first day. Aidan and I have just watched a film. We sat on the sofa together, me in the middle and Aidan leaning up against the far corner. The film claimed to be scary but it wasn’t. There was a bit where the man and the woman got stuck in a passionate embrace, inside a ruined church deep in snow. When they started undoing each other’s buttons I said to Aidan – things could get chilly. He sniffed, a sort of laugh but not laugh. When the film finished Aidan yawned. He’s given up his bed (a double bed) for me, which is kind, and his towel too. I’m lying under his freshly washed sheets, all fired up. My heart is racing. When I saw myself in the mirror I had that sparkly-eyed look of someone who’s falling for someone.
    It’s only the first night and I can’t sleep. I think about when I last saw Aidan. He stayed with me for two nights. It was freezing and we walked for miles through the wood to reach the village pub. Over two pints Aidan told me of the time he nearly died but held on because his friend was there and he didn’t want to let his friend down. We walked back through the wood after dark. The moon was full and its silver light gleamed off the naked trees. When we got home and warmed ourselves in front of the fire, all I could think about was covering Aidan’s face with soft kisses. Instead I poked the logs in the fire. He reached out and touched my hair. We played roulette until we could play no more; then we said goodnight.
    Wednesday. It doesn’t look like it’s raining but it is. We sit in the kitchen drinking Guatemalan coffee and watching the ferry push its way through the bay to Shapinsay. I imagine you did a great deal of tea drinking and looking out at the rain. Outside in the field a pattern of oystercatchers are digging for worms with their long, orange beaks. Aidan keeps singing the first line of ‘Getting to know you’. We fall into one of our talks. Aidan likes to pull apart the reasoning of life, to show there’s nothing holding it up but perception. He says he feels no desire, and asks me, ‘What is a person?’ I try to explain that we are driven beings with the need to make sense of the world and the people in it. He asks me, ‘What is anger?’ I try to explain about emotions, how necessary they are. I say that as far as I can see, his views are a