gossip about the rest of the family, they argued over whose turn it was to phone Great-Aunt Sylvie and they admonished Martha for making enough food for a football team. Until she started getting upset and then they all tucked into second helpings. And all the while, Jazz was aware of Simon sitting there with a very slight, fixed smile on his handsome face, not understanding any of the conversation and not caring enough to pretend that he did.
It was only when Jazz was saying goodnight to her father that the subject of Harry Noble came up again. 'Harry Noble may be a great actor,' he said softly, as he kissed her, 'but he needs his eyes testing.' Jazz wished he hadn't said that. For some reason it made her feel the slight much more.
George gave Jazz a lift home in her beloved VW Beetle. Thankfully, Simon had had to leave early, so they'd come in separate cars.
'I hope it's a girl,' George confided, as she put the key in the ignition.
'Really?' smiled Jazz, dreamily. 'How selfish.'
'Selfish? What do you mean?'
Jazz took a deep breath. 'I mean, you hope that Josie will give birth to someone who will spend up to a quarter of her adult life having painful periods, who will be susceptible to all sorts of complex eating disorders and self-confidence problems because society will be obsessed with her physical appearance; someone who will have less chance of getting the same respect and money in the workplace as her male colleagues; who will be treated as thick if she's pretty and pitied if she's plain, who will spend more time than her partner doing household chores even though they work the same hours – that is, if he doesn't beat her or abuse her mentally,' she took another deep breath, 'and someone who will have to go through the untold agony of labour if she wants to have a child and will then be pilloried by society and said child for being a mother – and all so that you can bond with your niece over chocolate and lipstick.' Jazz turned to George with a smug smile. 'I call that selfish.'
George had heard it all before.
'Yup, and you hope it's a girl, too.'
Jazz nodded. 'Mmm, tragic, isn't it?'
Five minutes into the journey George could hold the question in no longer. 'So what did you think of that blond bloke at the auditions?'
'Shame on you, you hussy. And Simon only just out of sight.'
George sighed.
'I thought you could eat him for dinner,' said Jazz. 'I hope you'll both be very happy.'
George was delighted. 'He's so cute, isn't he? I'll die if I don't get a part.' She started humming.
'What if you get a part and he doesn't?' said Jazz. 'Who'll die then?'
'I'll die then too,' said George definitely. She continued humming.
'Right you are,' said Jazz, watching the road contentedly.
* * * * *
As Jazz ran up the stairs into her flat, she could hear George's car drive off down the road. Mo's light was off, so Jazz went straight into her room and started getting undressed. When the phone rang she rushed to get it with her toothbrush still in her mouth.
'Hello?' she whispered
'You're Lizzy!' came a breathless squeal down the phone.
'What?'
'You're Lizzy, I'm Jane and rehearsals start next Monday. I've just picked up the message on my answerphone. You're Lizzy !' repeated an overjoyed George. 'I'm Jane. Rehearsals start next Monday. I've just pick––'
'Yes I heard what you said,' said Jazz. 'Bloody hell.' Excitement welled up inside her. 'Are you sure?'
George was hyperventilating.
'It was Sandie, Harry's PA,' she gasped. 'She said I was Jane Bennet and please could I phone my sister, Jasmin Field – that's you – and let her know she's got the part of Lizzy Bennet. Lizzy Bennet , Jazz. Oh, and Mo's got a part too. I think she's Charlotte Lucas.'
There was silence.
'Jazz? Are you there?'
'Yes. Yes, I'm here.'
'Well, what do you think?'
She smiled slowly. 'I think Harry Noble is remarkably shrewd for someone with bad eyesight,' she smiled.
6
Jazz stopped in her tracks. Mo was standing in the
It was only when Jazz was saying goodnight to her father that the subject of Harry Noble came up again. 'Harry Noble may be a great actor,' he said softly, as he kissed her, 'but he needs his eyes testing.' Jazz wished he hadn't said that. For some reason it made her feel the slight much more.
George gave Jazz a lift home in her beloved VW Beetle. Thankfully, Simon had had to leave early, so they'd come in separate cars.
'I hope it's a girl,' George confided, as she put the key in the ignition.
'Really?' smiled Jazz, dreamily. 'How selfish.'
'Selfish? What do you mean?'
Jazz took a deep breath. 'I mean, you hope that Josie will give birth to someone who will spend up to a quarter of her adult life having painful periods, who will be susceptible to all sorts of complex eating disorders and self-confidence problems because society will be obsessed with her physical appearance; someone who will have less chance of getting the same respect and money in the workplace as her male colleagues; who will be treated as thick if she's pretty and pitied if she's plain, who will spend more time than her partner doing household chores even though they work the same hours – that is, if he doesn't beat her or abuse her mentally,' she took another deep breath, 'and someone who will have to go through the untold agony of labour if she wants to have a child and will then be pilloried by society and said child for being a mother – and all so that you can bond with your niece over chocolate and lipstick.' Jazz turned to George with a smug smile. 'I call that selfish.'
George had heard it all before.
'Yup, and you hope it's a girl, too.'
Jazz nodded. 'Mmm, tragic, isn't it?'
Five minutes into the journey George could hold the question in no longer. 'So what did you think of that blond bloke at the auditions?'
'Shame on you, you hussy. And Simon only just out of sight.'
George sighed.
'I thought you could eat him for dinner,' said Jazz. 'I hope you'll both be very happy.'
George was delighted. 'He's so cute, isn't he? I'll die if I don't get a part.' She started humming.
'What if you get a part and he doesn't?' said Jazz. 'Who'll die then?'
'I'll die then too,' said George definitely. She continued humming.
'Right you are,' said Jazz, watching the road contentedly.
* * * * *
As Jazz ran up the stairs into her flat, she could hear George's car drive off down the road. Mo's light was off, so Jazz went straight into her room and started getting undressed. When the phone rang she rushed to get it with her toothbrush still in her mouth.
'Hello?' she whispered
'You're Lizzy!' came a breathless squeal down the phone.
'What?'
'You're Lizzy, I'm Jane and rehearsals start next Monday. I've just picked up the message on my answerphone. You're Lizzy !' repeated an overjoyed George. 'I'm Jane. Rehearsals start next Monday. I've just pick––'
'Yes I heard what you said,' said Jazz. 'Bloody hell.' Excitement welled up inside her. 'Are you sure?'
George was hyperventilating.
'It was Sandie, Harry's PA,' she gasped. 'She said I was Jane Bennet and please could I phone my sister, Jasmin Field – that's you – and let her know she's got the part of Lizzy Bennet. Lizzy Bennet , Jazz. Oh, and Mo's got a part too. I think she's Charlotte Lucas.'
There was silence.
'Jazz? Are you there?'
'Yes. Yes, I'm here.'
'Well, what do you think?'
She smiled slowly. 'I think Harry Noble is remarkably shrewd for someone with bad eyesight,' she smiled.
6
Jazz stopped in her tracks. Mo was standing in the
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