Mr Collins, enjoying the horror, sent an email to the Bennets to console, adding that “the death of Lydia would have been a blessing in comparison.”
Meanwhile, Mr Bennet returned from Newquay, having thoroughly investigated the lap-dancing clubs, his hair wild and unkempt, his eyes rolling with a crazed look and a curiously happy smile on his lips, but with no Lydia.
Chapter 49
The following day, under flat grey skies, Lizzy and Jane were plodding slowly through the mudflats of the outgoing tide with only three great cormorants and a little egret for company, when they had a text from their father. “News!”
At once, the girls dashed through the mud, sending the peaceful birds squawking to the skies in panic and splattering themselves from head to toe in their anxiety to hear what their father had to say. Mr Bennet was sitting on the thwart in Angelica , which was aground, his mouth wide open and a puzzled look upon his face.
“Read it!” he said, passing Lizzy the phone.
The text was from Uncle G.
“Found her!”
“Awesome!” exclaimed Jane in delight.
“Searched all nightclubs, pubs, and exhausted myself in myriad lap-dancing clubs. Tracked Lydia and Wickham down at club called Tottie’s. Lydia signed up for three-year contract with severe penalties. By hook or by crook, contract paid off and Lydia and Wickham bribed with allowance at Fat Face. Accepted with alacrity.”
“Oh, splendid! Splendid!” cried Jane. “But, Father, why do you look so crazed at this fine news?”
“What does he mean by “by hook or by crook”? And as for “an allowance at Fat Face”? There must be at least White Stuff involved. And if so—how am I ever going to repay your uncle?”
Chapter 50
Lydia, it seemed, was safe at last. She returned to 3 Island Street, apparently intact though with a tattoo of an anchor on the back of her neck and a sheepish Wickham in tow. She delighted in teasing her elder siblings that she now had a proper boyfriend, and everything thereafter was “My boyfriend this…” and “My boyfriend that…” Wickham was welcomed with open arms into the bosom of Mrs Bennet, who, on seeing Lydia, had recovered immediately. It seemed the lies and deceptions of Polegate were over.
Chapter 51
“So, Mother, what do you think of my boyfriend?” Lydia asked the delighted Mrs Bennet. “Don’t you wish your elder daughters were no longer on the shelf?”
This was too much for Lizzy and Jane, who rushed out in tears.
Later that day, the girls were sitting on the quayside, admiring Wickham’s fine windsurfing talents—or at least Lydia was admiring him, when she happened to say, “Aren’t things strange. Here I am with my boyfriend, and you, Jane, and Lizzy with none. But never mind. You never know what might turn up. Talking of turning up, wasn’t it strange that that horrible Mr Darcy came into Tottie’s with Uncle G and dragged me away—just as I was about to get my best tip ever! Can you believe it! Just as we were leaving, the manager came out, and Darcy had a real hoo hah with him and got me struck off my contract that dear Wickham had worked so hard to set up!” Lydia clasped her hand to her mouth. “…Oh!—it was all meant to be a secret! Oh, fish hooks!”
Lizzy nearly fell off the quayside in shock. So Darcy was the saviour! Oh, Lor! Darcy! Questions, rapid and wild, crowded her mind. Feelings, passions, possibilities rose to the surface and were then quelled immediately by reasoning. She walked on into town, but nothing could distract her; not Jane imploring her to try on the bright pink sweatpants in Jack Wills that she had long coveted; not the glorious sight of Bolt , Cadmus , and Wolf , the rowing club’s Cornish Pilot Gigs, out training; not the site of a common heron standing on the shoreline; not the sudden dramatic exit of The Baltic Exchange III all-weather lifeboat, leaving its pontoon on a rescue mission; not even Lydia offering to buy her a ginger-and-honeycomb ice cream from Salcombe Dairy. No! Her mind was in turmoil. Unable to relax in ignorance, Lizzy determined to send a text to Aunt G, begging her to clarify, to explain, to enable her to comprehend this extraordinary occurrence.
Chapter 52
As Lizzy was scrambling about the rocks on Mill Bay later that day, her text from Aunt G was to surprise her further.
My dear Lizzy
Dear Aunt G. She always used text as if writing a letter.
How strange! I thought you knew all, otherwise Uncle G may not have acted as he did. But never mind that now. I will tell you what you are so anxious to hear. When Lydia disappeared and Uncle G went to find her, he was surprised to meet with Darcy in Newquay. Darcy, it appeared, had discovered Lydia and Wickham’s whereabouts! I am sorry to say that Wickham has behaved most abominably, and Lydia barely any better. Darcy apologised, saying that he knew of the dangers of Wickham’s character and felt it was almost his fault. Lydia should have been warned. Warned! I ask you. She, unlike you and Jane, is a silly goose, and in my opinion, has behaved very badly. I digress, however. Darcy, with great generosity, sorted out the contract. He did all this with
Oh! Aunt G! With what? How frustrating! The text ended, and nothing more was waiting. But Lizzy had learnt enough. It was Darcy. But why? Could he really have done such a thing because he felt responsible? A quiet voice she could not suppress murmured that perhaps he had done it all for her. She checked the thought. How ridiculous. She had rejected him once, and besides, the last thing he would want would be to go out with a girl whose sister was going out with the abhorred Wickham. At that moment, Wickham himself appeared from behind a large seaweed-clad outcrop.
“Lizzy!” he said in surprise.
“Wickham!” she returned, challenging.
He grinned up at her, trying to gauge her feelings, but then slipped and looked likely to fall into the swirling sea below. Lizzy grasped him just in time, and his fate hung with her. After a fleeting hesitation, her kindheartedness and good sense won over. “Come, Wickham, you are dating my sister now. Let us no longer argue.” And she pulled him back to safety, slapped him heartily on the back, and linking his arm in hers, they walked back along the sunlit beach.
Chapter 53
Soon after her Newquay adventures, Lydia awoke one morning, having had a vivid dream that her life would change and she was destined to do great things. This played on her mind. Deep in thought, she made a cup of coffee and went to sit on the bench outside the Over 60’s Club overlooking the harbour. A frail, elderly lady with skin as delicate as parchment and hair so wispy it was hardly there seemed to appear from nowhere and perched on the bench beside Lydia.
They fell into conversation. In a faint, whispery voice that at the same time had a mysterious strength and directness that pierced Lydia’s very soul, the lady spoke of her own vocation. She was a nun and had devoted her life to helping others: survivors of natural disasters; abandoned orphans; victims of war; sufferers from horrendous diseases; prisoners; prostitutes; the blind; the deaf; the dumb; the lost; the limbless—even the lap dancers. Lydia thought of her own selfish life, burst into tears, vowed to reform, and perhaps, if God would allow, eventually take orders.