Page 13 of Persuading Penny (Jane Austen Association #4)

T he time to shoot the seaside scene finally arrived. Keely and I, along with Abbie, the assistant producer, Cliff and the few necessary cast members boarded the train for the pleasant two-hour ride to Southampton.

The crew had left the night before taking the two vans that were filled with camera equipment as well as the wardrobe and other items much needed for the scenes.

I sat with Keely and Abbie, listening quietly to their friendly chatter.

While I knew little of Abbie, she seemed very respected and appreciated by Keely, both professionally and personally.

They talked about their thoughts of Jane Austen’s Persuasion , the hopes of visiting Winchester, where Jane was buried, and of their past projects.

A short distance from us was Cliff, unsurprisingly seated beside Bridget. While I was just far away enough to not hear their conversation, it was clear the pretty actress had the ability to keep him amused, possibly with tales of the many movies she’d made.

Their laughter was nauseating.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

I’d initially been so excited at the notion of leaving Bath behind, even if just for a short time.

I thought it would do me good to leave the troubles of the past years behind; my father’s failing health; the possibility of losing my childhood home; Cliff and Bridget always torturing me with their blossoming romance.

But I now realized that there was no escaping it. Whether in Bath, in Southampton, in London, or anywhere else on this planet, I could not escape the pain of seeing Cliff with that... that girl.

As we neared our destination, Keely stood to announce, “Seeing how we’re arriving so early in the day, yet not early enough to shoot anything today, you’re all free to roam as you wish, visit the city where Jane Austen spent her last days.

Immerse yourself in her life... and untimely death. .. so young.”

“I heard the Titanic was put to sea from here,” Bridget called out, somewhat giddy. “The SeaCity Museum has a display of the whole Titanic story. Can we go see that?”

“As I said, you are free to roam as you wish. If it is the Titanic that interests you, then, by all means, go visit the museum.”

Bridget leaned closer to Cliff to say, “Jane Austen. Jane Austen. Jane Austen. This is going to be a great movie and I’m so proud to play one of the characters the woman created, but... by God... can we see and talk about something else?”

Keely shot her a wry grin and shrugged.

We arrived at the station and immediately headed to our hotel which sat near Southampton Water.

Neither a bay or a river and branching off from the English Channel by way of the Solent, Southampton Water was a flooded valley fed by the rivers Test, Itchen and Hamble.

Not only was it home to so many leisure boats of all kinds, but it was the port for very large ships, containers and tanker vessels.

Cruise ships carrying tourists also stopped there and ferries brought nature lovers and history buffs to nearby Isle of Wight.

I reached my room to find the view of the water partially obscured by a taller building, but I was pleased with the room all the same. It wasn’t luxurious by any standard, but was nonetheless large, clean and had all the necessary amenities.

Through my room’s door, I heard cast members plan to meet at one of the town’s many pubs. Abbie and Keely spoke about shopping and having lunch at Westquay, a large mall in town, and perhaps a cruise on the water.

Cliff and Bridget headed off to Southampton Common, eager for a nice stroll around the pond and perhaps a picnic... after their visit to SeaCity Museum, of course.

I allowed myself a brief moment of self-pity. Everyone had gone their way, and I was left alone.

Well, this is the perfect time to visit all the spots Jane Austen once frequented. Alone I can really take it all in without interruption.

Keeping my comfy travelling jeans, I exchanged my beige sweater for a lighter and cooler buttery yellow shirt with no adornment save for a white flower printed on the hem of the sleeve.

With a bit of change in one pocket, and the key to my room in the other, I headed out in search of the Jane Austen Heritage Trail.

On the south coast of England, Southampton was very much an important port city. Much revolved around the ports and marinas. But it was also a city with a beautiful history, in particular in the Old Town where cobbled lanes lead to ancient walls and onward to castle ruins.

Tudor House, which I hoped to have time to visit before leaving Southampton, was just one of the many structures in the iconic architectural style, all of them bringing undeniable charm.

I came upon the Jane Austen trail a little by accident. I’d meandered through the streets, caught up in the beauty and charm, and then... there I was facing one of the many plaques set about the town, telling fans of Jane’s experience in that spot. I’d almost finished reading the plaque when...

“A fan, I assume?”

Startled, I turned to see a handsome young man standing a few steps behind and to the right of me, reading the plaque over my shoulder.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, moving out of the way, though with his imposing height, he surely had no problem reading over me.

“Don’t be silly,” he said in a mellow tone. “You’ve every right to stand right where you are and take your time reading that. If anything, I should apologize for breaking into your thoughts.”

Flustered, I could barely make eye contact with him. He had a disarming smile and pleasant eyes that seemed determined to befriend me.

“Actually, I was through reading.”

“Have you done the entire trail leading here?” he said.

“No. I stumbled on this portion of the trail. Are you a fan of Jane’s?”

His smile broadened. “I guess you could say that. My mother and sister are the true fans of her work. I’m just curious about the woman’s life... as an author in her time. It does seem fascinating.”

I nodded. “Is Southampton your last stop of your journey through Jane’s life?”

He laughed. “Actually, this is my first stop. I know. I’m doing it backwards. I had hoped to start in Steventon where she was born. I’d read all about St. Nicholas Church where her father was rector... and where she was baptized.”

“And yet you’ve ended up here where she last lived,” I said. “That is until she moved to Winchester to be closer to her doctor, but that was really in her final days.”

He nodded. “Yes. That’s where my journey started. I’m that way sometimes. I can’t seem to do things as I should. I always take the wrong way.”

Without either of us saying anything about it, we simply started walking with such ease and comfort.

“Jane initially came to Southampton to go to a boarding school when she was only seven years old,” the stranger said. “And she almost died.”

“Typhus,” I said with a nod.

“That’s right.”

“It’s hard to imagine a literary world without the works of Jane Austen. Granted, we’re blessed with so many great authors like Elizabeth Bowen, Iris Murdoch and Maria Edgeworth, one of the few authors Jane enjoyed reading. But still there is something special about Jane.”

“Indeed.”

“I hear that many of the places she lived in are no longer standing,” I said as we came to a plaque that spoke of her, yet there was a very modern structure in front of us.

“Yes,” the stranger said. “It’s a shame, really. I know she once lived at 2 Castle Square, and that’s gone, as are many of the pubs, or restaurants or what have you that she frequented. We have the second world war to thank for that.”

We walked on chatting amiably, then came to a particular building, and he stopped.

“This is good news. This one is still here.”

“The Dolphin Hotel?” I looked up at the writing on the wall then at him. “She came here?”

He nodded. “It is said that she came to celebrate her eighteenth birthday right here at this hotel... She danced the night away, as it were.” He cocked a slightly naughty brow.

I laughed. Not only was he knowledgeable but amusing as well.

“You know, not far from here there is Chawton Hampshire. A quick half hour away.”

“That’s where the home her brother, Edward, lived in is.”

He nodded. “Yes. And not only can you visit Chawton House, but also the more modest home where Jane lived with her sister. This is toward the end of her life. It’s a simple house, nothing special or ostentatious, but it is truly fascinating to see.”

“You really did your research.”

He nodded. “If you want to see it, her tiny, little writing table is in that house, almost within reach. It’s a small wobbly looking thing, and when you consider that she wrote all her books by hand, it’s even more impressive. You really ought to take the time to go have a look.”

“I will try, indeed. You’ve piqued my interest.”

“Then again, this is where she fell ill and stopped writing.”

“I’m impressed. I think I’m learning more from you than from any of the plaques along the way.”

He held his hands up, as if in surrender. “Then again, I could be mistaken about some of these facts.”

“I think you’re doing very well, very informative.”

“Like I said, I’m intrigued by the woman. If you’re interested, it’s a lovely drive out to Chawton Hampshire, as well as Winchester Cathedral, where Jane is buried.”

“She died so young,” I said, reluctant to answer his invitation. “Just barely forty...in her sister’s arms... so tragic. I can’t help but wonder how many more books she would have written had she lived to a ripe old age of eighty, or ninety or more.”

In the distance I saw Keely and Abbie reading a plaque while simultaneously hearing Bridget’s unmistakable laughter coming from the opposite direction.

“My next stop should be in Bath,” the stranger went on. “Can you believe that I am twenty-seven years old, have lived in London nearly all my life and I’ve never visited Bath. I hear it’s a lovely and quaint little town.”

“It is, indeed,” I said, keeping my eyes on my travel mates. “That’s where I’m from. I’ve lived there all my life.”

His eyes lit up. “Isn’t that splendid. I can only hope that I should meet with you there and you could show me around.” At this point, he noticed my distracted glances.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been lovely chatting with you, but I see my friends over there. We all came to Southampton together... we got split up somehow, but...”

With a genteel bow of his head, he gestured toward the spot I’d been looking at most. “By all means, I would hate to keep you. It’s been a pleasure.”

I walked away at a brisk pace, but heard from afar, “I hope to see you in Bath.”

Yes, indeed, I thought to myself. I would like that very much.