Chapter two - First Impressions

As her taxi drove through the ornamental gates, Jessica craned her neck to catch her first glimpse of Exley Hall. The winding ribbon of tarmac took them past a herd of deer, dotted across the wide paddock, while real sheep roamed bumpy fields in the distance. The only sheep Jess normally saw were the stylised drawings on her shrink-wrapped lamb chops.

After a few more minutes the road descended into a valley, revealing the hall, squatting in the landscape like some kind of stone tomb. Signs by the roadside identified points of interest, such as the Japanese garden or the Orangery. One arrow pointed to the car park, while another directed visitors to the reception and ticket office.

Jess asked directions from a cheery young woman wearing an Exley Hall sweatshirt. She followed the path around the outside of the house, and down a flight of steps, to reach the basement room being used as a temporary office for their production. Inside, a laptop hummed while a harassed female with a phone in each hand seemed to be holding two separate conversations at once. She pointed towards the spare chair and Jess sat down, waiting until the call was finished before introducing herself.

The woman brushed the loose wisps of blonde hair back from her face. "Hello! Sorry to keep you waiting. My name's Mandy." She picked up a clipboard, her pen sliding down the list of names until she located Jess. "Ah, you're our Miss Bennet! You're a bit early. We didn't expect anyone for another hour or two yet."

"Unfortunately the local trains don't run too often this far away from the main line, and the next one would have been half an hour too late."

"Well, at least you had no problem finding us. Let me show you to your room. It looks like I'll be coordinating things on my own for now. My boss was supposed to be here, but I think she might have resigned. It's a nightmare!" One of the phones started ringing again. Mandy sighed, checked the screen and declined the call. "We'd better get moving before they try again. Follow me."

They passed through a long corridor and up a flight of narrow stairs that took them from the basement level to the ground floor of the house. At the top of the stairs, she unclipped a rope marking the staircase as out of bounds to visitors. "We're going to meet in the blue drawing room at six o'clock. That's this room here." She pointed to a door that stood ajar, next to a full suit of armour. "But the house doesn't close to the public until five so until then you can get yourself settled in your room. It's on the top floor, in the old servant's quarters." The melody on her phone played again. Apologising, she glanced at the clipboard and waved towards a grander staircase. "Go up two flights, ignore the no entry sign, and then take the corridor on your left. Yours is the fourth room on the right. You can't miss it."

When Jessica reached the top of the second flight of stairs, she paused to catch her breath. The drab walls and bare floorboards had probably seen hundreds of servants come and go over the two hundred and fifty years of Exley Hall's history. For the next week it would be her home away from home. She counted the doors until she reached the one she'd been assigned and peeked inside.

Spreading her arms wide she couldn't quite touch both walls at the same time, but it only lacked a few inches. A narrow bed, pushed against the wall, stood opposite an ancient chest with three drawers. The dozen hooks screwed into the wall and a handful of hangers was the closest she'd get to a wardrobe. The only concession to modernity was a tiny hand basin squashed into the corner behind the door, the mirror above barely larger than a paperback novel.

Jessica sank onto the end of the bed, making a couple of experimental bounces on the lumpy mattress. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked. As she ran her hand over the cool cotton quilt cover she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Despite its size, the bedroom wasn't all bad. She'd slept in worse, including a B&B in Brighton that had been memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Standing on tiptoe she peered through the grimy dormer window set high in the angled ceiling, but all she could see were the tops of the ancient trees that dotted the lawn, and a sliver of the hills in the distance.

Jessica looked at her watch. She had more than an hour to kill so she settled onto the bed, allowing her head to sink into the soft pillow. Jess felt tense and stiff, like a coiled spring waiting for its release. It was nothing more than her eagerness to meet the group of people she would be working with over the next ten days. This week's work would not earn her any glowing reviews, but at least she could look back and say she had spent a week with Mr. Darcy.

Wasn't that every woman's dream come true?

~~~~~

She woke with a start, her eyes snapping open as she looked around. The bed must have been more comfortable than she thought because she'd dozed off. Panic rising, she looked at her watch, and then released a breath. She'd only slept for a little over an hour, and there was still plenty of time before she had to make her way downstairs.

Before her nap the house had been silent, but now she could hear the faint murmur of voices in nearby rooms; a sign she was no longer the only resident of the attic corridor. The brief squeal of furniture moving against a floorboard, or the sounds of running water and squeaky taps were strangely comforting. At half past five Jess ducked and dived in front of the mirror, trying to see enough of her head in one go to be sure she looked presentable. She freshened up her make-up, took a deep breath and opened her door.

The man standing in the doorway of the room opposite hadn't expected to see her either, and there was a second or two of awkward silence before he cleared his throat and said, "Hello, I...I'm Gareth."

Jessica's heart sank as she shook the offered hand. The sandy-haired actor looked to be in his late twenties, but with a boyish kind of innocence that suggested he could easily play younger. Sadly his beige cable-knit sweater and studious metal-rimmed glasses shouted tax accountant, rather than dashing Austen hero. No...no, he couldn't be Darcy. He didn't have the noble mien and stately bearing necessary for the role.

Actor he might be, but nobody was that good.

She forced her lips into a smile. "Hi, I'm Jessica. Are...um...are you going to be Darcy?" She mentally crossed her fingers and held her breath, praying for a negative.

He pulled a face. "God, no. No, no...definitely not Darcy. Charles Bingley, at your service." His stiff bow showed that he, at least, knew something of the time period they would be working in.

Jess relaxed, laughing at herself for jumping to such ridiculous conclusions. Yes, she could definitely picture him as a nice-but-dim Mr. Bingley. "Of course you are. Well, we'd better get downstairs and meet the others."

She headed down to the blue drawing room, and Mr. Bingley followed along in silence. He obviously wasn't big on small talk, but Jess didn't mind. She was more focused on the excitement of getting to know the other cast members. The room was empty apart from Mandy, who was still working her phone like a double glazing salesman. The poor woman paced back and forth, talking in a low but earnest voice.

With its blue chintz wallpaper and damask curtains, their meeting room was one of the poshest Jess had ever seen. They had a choice of settees and sofas, along with a couple of extra chairs standing against the wall. Mandy had set up a flip-chart in front of the fireplace, and there were refreshments on a table by the window. The man playing Bingley offered to pour her a tea or a coffee, but she declined, and he left her to her thoughts.

Jess already knew that their cast was small. No more than ten people had been hired to bring scenes from Pride and Prejudice to life within the elegant rooms of Exley Hall. Jessica wondered when the other eight were going to arrive. A few minutes later four people entered together. A glance over the group told her that Mr. Darcy wasn't among them.