Page 17 of Persuading Penny (Jane Austen Association #4)

E very day, Keely made sure we received news of Bridget’s state.

The initial concern for her head injury had everyone stressed and anxious, but that concern was put to rest when the doctor assured Keely that the cut on her forehead made the injury appear worse than it was.

After that, we learned that she grew stronger every day.

Having put her hands out in front of her to break her fall, however, we learned that one of her wrists was, indeed, fractured, but that was surely what had saved her from a serious concussion.

Once out of danger, she’d been released from the hospital in Southampton, had spent two nights at the hospital in Bath where another doctor took over, and once released and returned to Tillsbury Estate, the doctor checked on her regularly.

During this time, Cliff spent much of his time with her, tending to her and bringing her whatever she may need. Keely joked that he moped around like a wounded puppy, such was his concern for the fallen actress.

“You’d think he’d take advantage of this break from Persuasion to concentrate on that documentary he’s making, but no. He’s with her, making sure she lacks nothing.”

How nice of him, I wanted to say. But then again, I wasn’t surprised. That’s the type of person Cliff was; attentive and caring.

Though there was to be no filming for a few days, Keely invited me to come spend time at Tillsbury Estate to be with the cast and crew.

“Thanks,” I said. “But I think I’ll take this time to spend with my family.” Truth was, I didn’t want to have to watch Cliff tend so affectionately to Bridget.

After three days, however, Keely and Abbie scheduled the shoot of a few short scenes that didn’t include Bridget as Anne.

One was an outdoor scene shot on the edge of the forest while two others were interior shots.

Cliff made it to the set every day, but even though she would not appear in any of the scenes, Bridget accompanied him.

While I would never, ever wish for harm to anyone, a certain degree of weight had lifted from my shoulders with Bridget’s absence. But seeing her back on set again made me feel like I’d fallen off that wall with her.

“Okay,” Keely said at the end of the three short scenes. “That’s about all we can do without Bridget for now.” She turned to Cliff. “If the weather is nice enough tomorrow, we can shoot a few more outdoor scenes. No actors, just shots of the surroundings, perhaps a drone shot or two.”

“Sounds good.”

“And you, Bridget,” she said. “How are you feeling? Has the doctor told you when you can get back to work? We’ve carved out a few easy scenes that shouldn’t be too taxing.”

“I still have a bit of a headache, but nothing like that first day. I’m certain the doctor would give his approbation.

The only thing that worries me is this.” She held up her bandaged arm.

“The doctor said he might be able to change this bulky bandage for something more discrete. If I can wear a long-sleeved gown, no one will know I’m injured. ”

“Good. I’ll make sure your dresses are made suitable for your new situation. Take a few more days, and...” She turned to the crew. “...everyone take the weekend off, and we’ll see what we can do Monday.”

I left the set and reluctantly headed home. My father had been nagging me about seeing Steve again and while I did, indeed, want to see him again, I didn’t want to let my father win on the matter.

“I did it,” Dad said as I walked into the cottage. Seating on the sofa facing the television, he had an old phone book, several local newspapers and his phone spread out around him.

“You did what, Dad?” I said, too tired to argue with him.

“I found the contact information for your Steve Seagram.” He slipped a small piece of paper across the coffee table. “I might not be as handy with this new technology as you kids are, but I still managed to find it.”

“My Steve?” I moaned. “Please, Dad. Let it go.”

“I don’t understand you, Penny. Your mother said you were smitten with the man.

She said you had stars in your eyes when you spoke of him.

What’s the deal? Why are you suddenly so opposed to seeing him again?

Just because this relationship might actually make your ailing old dad happy, is that it?

You refuse to see him because it’s what I ask of you? Is it all just to spite me?”

My jaw tight, I pressed my lips into a flat line. Damn, Dad.

“Why?” he said. “Why, Penny? Explain it to me because I truly don’t understand. All I have is your best interest at heart. I want to see you happy and taken care of. I want to see you with children, in a big house, with no financial woes. Don’t you see that?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“You know I care about you, right? That I’m looking out for your future.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Then why not pick up that piece of paper and give the man a call?”

“Dad, you know I can’t do that?”

“Why not? I hear women do that sort of thing all the time these days.”

I smiled. “Yes. I know. It’s not that I can’t in that sense, it’s just..

.” It was just what? Did I fear Steve’s reaction?

Rejection? He’d clearly shown interest in me.

He’d made it abundantly clear that he enjoyed his time with me.

Was my father right? Was I refusing to contact Steve just to spite him?

My father picked up the slip of paper, came to me and slipped the number in my hand. “Make your father happy, Penny. Give the man a call.”

I looked at the number lying on my palm, my hand tingling just from the thought of a connection with Steve.

“All right,” I finally said. “I’ll do it for you.”

He grinned. “Right,” he said, seeing right through me. “Do it just for me. Go out there and have a good time with him... just for me. Fall in love with the man... just for me.”

He winked and I laughed.

*****

“I ’m so glad you called ,” Steve said as we met up in front of the Pump Room. “I’d considered asking for your number on our little tour of the town, but I feared you might think me too forward.”

I smiled as we slowly walked down the street. “I have to admit, it’s really not the sort of thing I’m accustomed to doing. Even in these modern times, it’s not something I’m particularly comfortable with.”

“Then I appreciate the gesture all the more. I have a feeling tonight is going to be a special evening.”

“Well, I did think that we’d rushed through the tour of the town, and I’d shown you nothing of the nightlife here. I thought a special cultural event would be a pleasant initiation to Bath.”

We reached the small coffee house where several well-liked readers, were preparing to read. Though the house was quite full, we found a table for six with two empty chairs and joined the foursome already seated.

Quiet conversations filled the air, some patrons throwing out their favorite lines from the poets that were to be read that night.

As the organizer of the evening stood to address the crowd, the room fell silent without needing a request to do so.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight. My name is Nathan Charles, your host for this evening. This is our sixth poetry reading this year and we’re pleased to see that the crowd keeps getting bigger and bigger. How pleasing to the heart it is to see so many lovers of poetry.”

The crowd nodded in agreement and a few lightly applauded themselves.

“Tonight, the theme is our very own planet Earth; Mother Earth, Mother Nature, third rock, big blue marble... call it what you will. Modernity has been rough on Mother Earth, and yet this planet consistently shows us its resiliency... but for how long? We tend to think that love of the earth is a recent concern with all the fears we have regarding the planet’s health.

But back in the days of Dickinson, Blake, Frost, Keats and so many more, we can see how that love of nature was on full display.

All the riches this planet has to offer us.

All the riches we choose to ignore or underappreciate.

All the riches that are right there under our noses.

And we humans, eternally dissatisfied with what we have and in search of something new, turn to find something more.

..” His eyes grew wide as he shot his hands out for emphasis. “... dazzling.”

Nathan looked at the crowd, his eyes darting from one well-dressed patron to the other.

“Dazzle. Sparkle. Shine.” He pointed at one then another.

“We do like our new shiny things, don’t we.

And our love of those new shiny things is suffocating us.

Perhaps our poems tonight will bring us a new appreciation for all that Mother Earth has to offer in its simplest form.

Perhaps we can learn to appreciate nature without destroying it. ”

Steve leaned closer to me. “If he continues on this moral high ground, he might turn off a few patrons. People don’t like being told what they should or shouldn’t do.”

I nodded though I was in full agreement with Nathan.

“We have, tonight, three eloquent reciters: Betsy Collins, Benjamin Carling and...” He paused. “We have a last-minute addition to our program, a very surprise guest reader. I do hope you will enjoy them all.” Prompting the audience to applaud by doing so himself, he bowed and backed away.

Without a book or notes, a woman at a nearby table stood and meandered silently around the tables for a few moments, her head bowed. Then, she spoke softly yet clearly audible;

The Tyger by William Blake

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night;

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

She finally raised her head and spoke louder her voice filling with more emotion as the poem she recited grew more and more passionate;

In what distant deeps or skies.

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?