Jump to new as of June 18, 2004
Jump to new as of August 2, 2004

Part One

Posted on Friday, 30 January 2004

If you know anything about me you’d know that, as much as I love the stuff, Elizabeth Bennet and alcohol just do not mix. Never have, never will. Take my sister Jane’s birthday party a few September’s ago. She steadfastly refused to serve anything but soft drink and non-alcoholic wine and punch because to her it was undignified and unladylike for a woman to drink it, never mind serve it. Anyway, I brought a six-pack bourbon and cola with the resolution of not getting too drunk during the course of the night. After only one can (which I drank with a straw, making it twice as bad), I was on the table about to do a strip to Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me. Some guy got me down before I got to far and lead me to the kitchen where he proceeded to virtually pour water down my neck glass after glass. I seem to remember him saying something about alcohol being soluble in water but I’m not sure how true that is. Eventually he let me go but must of keep an eye on me as he took me back to the kitchen every half hour for the rest of the party.

Unfortunately for me, a lot of my friends are also Jane’s so many of the people I work with were at her party. Considerably more than I thought, apparently, as it seemed every second person I passed on the way up to my office Monday morning had something to say about my little exhibition on the weekend. Even my boss, Carl Lucas, came up to me during my tea-break and said, “So Liz, can I hire you for my Buck’s Night this weekend fortnight?”

“Elizabeth!” I growled back. “And no!”

So anyway, it happened that despite the water breaks every half-hour at the party I continued to get more and more drunk. It was a shame, really. I would have liked a sober Elizabeth to thank the guy for his efforts – but unfortunately I had no idea who he is or any recollection of what he looked like. I asked Jane afterwards and she said she didn’t know either; but then I heard on the grapevine later that she was too busy being chatted up by one of her girlfriend’s brothers all night. I confronted Jane about this, but all she’d say was, “Caroline brought along her brother Charlie who’s new to Perth and I found him to be a nice, amiable man that I should like to get to know better.”

”Nice, amiable man.” Her words exactly. What has that girl been reading?

By December Jane’s ‘nice, amiable man’ had become more of her ‘hot, gorgeous boyfriend,’ but she insisted they were no more than friends despite their numerous lunch dates and weekend outings. I decided things needed a bit of a hurry-up and so a Christmas party would be in order. Jane protested as could be expected and even used my behaviour last time we hosted a party as ammunition against me, but I didn’t take any notice and instead retaliated with the idea of a masquerade party so no-one will know who anyone is. After a week of bribery, coaxing and threatened blackmailing I finally got her to agree and settled a date for December 23rd. I had a feeling it was going to be the masquerade party of the year!

The night of the party rolled around. I, of course, was getting stuck into my drinks while Jane remained the ‘good host’ and stayed sober as a judge. Even though it was a masquerade party, I wasn’t too “blind” at 8pm to see Jane (a.k.a. Wonderwoman), alone in a corner talking to someone dressed as Charlie Brown. Thus having proved my point, I grabbed a Johnnie and went off to enjoy myself.

I’m pretty sure I was fairly well behaved until Joe Cocker came crooning out of the stereo with You Can Leave Your Hat On. I obviously blew my cover of being disguised as Rogerette Rabbit (Roger Rabbit with beribboned ponytails), when I once again got onto the very same table as last time and seductively began to remove my tail. I was about to start on my belt when someone once again lifted me off the table and led me to the kitchen, instructing me to skull water with the strangely familiar protestations of ‘alcohol is soluble in water.’ He said something about eating food when drunk and began to give me a rum ball when he seemed to think better of it and handed me a chicken and salad plate instead.

We talked in the kitchen for I don’t know how long and what about, and amazingly in all that time it never occurred to me to get his name. He never got mine either, which struck me as odd for someone kind enough to save you from humiliating yourself. I think I must have eventually passed out or something because the next thing I know is I’m being lead out the back and instructed to walk around the lawn with him in order to keep awake. After about two laps I found myself kissing this guy so hard and for what seemed so long that I’m sure both our mouths were bruised afterwards. Sixpence None the Richer’s Kiss Me was playing inside and I don’t know who made the first move, but I think that song had a lot of influence over whoever did.

As I pulled myself away I took in what this guy was wearing. He was dressed in all black, and had a cape on that was softly surrounding him as it wavered in the summer breeze – like something out of a movie, except we were in the outer suburbs of Perth and not London or New York. I noticed the cute little plastic sword he had attached to his belt and as I took him in completely, committing the image to memory, I murmured “Zorro…” then went back inside.

I don’t know what happened to Zorro ‘Alcohol-Soluble-In-Water’ guy after that. He must have left because he didn’t follow me inside and I never saw him again during the rest of the party. It was unfortunate, but unbelievably intriguing because about 10 minutes after I got back inside it was time to take off the masks. The group of people around me as Rogerette Rabbit revealed her true identity exclaimed, “I knew it was you!” and, being relatively sober by this time, I blushed in remembrance. But all the time I couldn’t help thinking how disappointed I was that Zorro didn’t stay.

Part Two

Posted on Saturday, 31 January 2004

When Jane and I eventually went to bed, it was about 3:30 in the morning. I slept soundly until Jane came in at 9 and said, “Lizzy! Wake up! We have to clean up this place! Mum’s just rang and she’ll be here in half an hour!” This took a while to register, but when it did I was out of bed like a shot hastily stuffing cans and bottles into garbage bags within five minutes while Jane was running over the house with the vacuum cleaner. When it was finished, we looked at all that had been accomplished in 20 minutes with sheer joy and pride until I commented, “This place really stinks.” Into action mode once again, Jane went around opening all the windows while I sprayed lavender air freshener as if it were going out of fashion. All that remained was for us to get changed and sit at the table with cups of coffee looking as if we’d just completed a Geri Yoga routine.

Mum walked in promptly at 9:30. “Jaaaaaaaane!” she gushed as she walked in, immediately suggesting she knew something we perhaps might not have wanted her to. “And Elizabeth,” she continued with undeniable enthusiasm.

“Good morning, mother,” we said simultaneously as it always gets us (well, me at least) in her good books. I got up to make Mum her special Raspberry, Cranberry and Strawberry tea while Jane was about to be victim of the Bennet Inquisition – one that would rival even the Spanish.

“Now Jane, Aunty Betty tells me she saw you last Thursday at lunch in SoHo’s.”

Aunty Betty. Mum’s older sister. Think skittish gossiping teenager in a 62 year old’s body. Scary.

“Yes, I was,” replied Jane. Her obvious reluctance to say anything about Charlie exasperated Mum, and she continued,

“Well, Aunty Betty also told me that you were in there with a man, Jane. And that he didn’t look like the type of person who would be working at Dymocks with you.”

They had now reached the heart of the matter, but still Jane remained elusive. “He doesn’t.”

That was the final straw. Mum was gone. “Well, for goodness sake child! Who is he? Where does he work? What does he do?”

I decided now would be the ideal time to bring over Mum’s tea that had stood forgotten on the counter. Jane was about to give in to Mum’s pressuring so just as she opened her mouth to confess all I broke in with:

“Mum, we’re sorry but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go. Jane and I are going to a big, exclusive lunch party in Swan Valley. You wouldn’t want us to be late for such an event now, would you?”

We were rewarded with a look of absolute delight and Mum got up to go on her way, tea forgotten. “Yes, yes… well… yes… Swan Valley, you say?... Oooooh… well, I will not keep you… lunch… Swan Valley… party…” She was still mumbling as she walked out the door.

My little white lie, as it turned out, wasn’t all that much of a lie. We were expected at an exclusive lunch party and would be traveling north to get to the venue, but only a 20 minute drive to the city as compared to an hour’s drive to Swan. It was being held by some executive friend of Jane’s, who for some reason had included me on the invitation, and would have all the “who’s who” of Perth on the guest list.

I was only mildly enthused by the prospects of this party, and so dragged out a $30 Rockmans dress I had bought the week before which was nice enough. Jane, meanwhile, appeared in a sexy knee-length number that looked like it had just come fresh out of wardrobe of Donatella Versace. We eventually set off at 12:30 singing along to my Bangles Greatest Hits album on the way.

Pushing the button for the 22nd floor, I looked at Jane and asked her earnestly, “So what’s going on with you and this Charlie guy?”

Jane sighed and replied, “Ok Lizzy. I’ve held out on you long enough. His name is Charles Bingley, he’s in one of those right-up-there positions of the Centro Group…”

“Really? Do you get free shopping vouchers?”

“…and we’re going on a mini-break to Mandurah in a month.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. A mini-break? Already? What happened to ‘just friends?’ I mean, sure they’d been ‘seeing’ each other for about 3 months by this time and I’d said hello and made light conversation the few times I was home when he came to take Jane out, but I had no idea it was that serious. I was about to launch into Bennet inquisition when the doors of the elevator opened and I was subjected to the sounds of posh laughter and clinking wine glasses. Jane whispered to me to watch my drinking but I was too busy trying to locate this Charlie of Jane’s. Within five seconds of us stepping out of the elevator he was at Jane’s side. After greeting her he turned to me and said, “Elizabeth. How nice to see you again. I trust you have been well?”

Gawd, I thought. He’s as bad as Jane. “Yes, thank you, very well. And you?”

“Absolutely marvelous,” he replied, looking at Jane. Someone walked past that recaptured his attention and he called out, “Will! Come here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

This Will guy as Charlie called him turned around and headed back in our direction. “Will, you remember Jane?” The guy nodded and smiled as Charlie continued, “This is her sister, Elizabeth Bennet. She works in the Public Relations department of the Rydell Corporation. Elizabeth, this is William Darcy.”

I extended my hand pleasantly and he shook it in return. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy...”

“Will, please,” he interrupted.

“Will. And what is it that you do?” I asked innocently.

“I’m the founder and CEO of Darcy Industries.”

“Oh right. So… err… is that a big company?” I noticed Jane and Charlie had disappeared.

His eyes momentarily betrayed a look of shock as he replied, “Reasonably big, yes. We started in Sydney originally but now have offices in every capital city as well as Boston, Chicago, New York, London, Berlin, Stockholm and Dublin.”

I had the feeling he was offended at my ignorance as I continued, “Right. So what exactly does your company do?”

“We’re a Human Resources firm.”

It was then I remembered the December issue of Cosmopolitan. “Australia’s 10 Most Eligible Businessmen,” the article was titled. William Darcy was number one. I recalled the last time I read the Economist – he was on the cover. The last time I scoured the business section of the West Australian - he was in there too.

“Oh my gawd,” I said absently.

“Elizabeth? Is there something wrong?” Australia’s Most Eligible Businessman asked me.

“Err... no. I just realized who I was talking to, that’s all.” My comment was received with a curious look. “Um, if you’ll excuse me, I think we’re expected to circulate,” I thanked God for Helen Fielding and Bridget Jones’s Diary. “I’ll see you later. Nice to meet you.”

I don’t know what William Darcy was thinking as I turned and walked towards the punch bowl, hoping it was potent. I couldn’t believe what an idiot I’d been. I recalled the look in his eyes when I asked him questions it was assumed the whole world knew and blushed in shame. I was about to sip my punch when Jane came over and said, “Lizzy! Carl’s here!”

“Carl?”

“Your boss!

“Oh,” I resigned as I realized what she was telling me. I put down my glass. “Well, I suppose I should go say hi!”

As I walked toward Carl and his fiancé I noticed a bored-looking William Darcy standing by the buffet presumably listening to a woman with 80’s style permed hair and wearing a hideous orange dress that looked about three sizes too small. I recognized her as Jane’s friend Caroline and wondered if she had ever considered hiring a stylist.

“Elizabeth! Fancy seeing you here!” called Carl as I approached the couple. He was obviously a little tipsy and his volume was perhaps slightly louder than preferred.

“Is there any reason why I shouldn’t be? Hello, Cassandra. Nice to see you again.”

“I might have thought you’d be around at ‘The Dollhouse’ or something like that. Haven’t they called you in yet?”

I felt my mouth drop and my face whiten in surprise at Carl’s comment. I also felt the whole room go quiet and a hundred pairs of eyes suddenly turned towards my direction. Cassandra broke the silence. “Elizabeth…” she started sympathetically.

I took a deep breath and said, “No, no. It’s ok.” With what dignity I had remaining I headed toward the door. Jane caught up with me at the elevator. She was clearly going to try and convince me to stay. “Leave me, Jane. I’m going home. You stay and enjoy the party. I’ll get a taxi. You can have the car. Please just leave me.”

The doors opened and I stepped into them. Jane didn’t follow.

Part Three

Posted on Thursday, 5 February 2004

As I walked out of the building I saw the taxi I’d called in the elevator. I got in, giving the driver my address while I rearranged my dress under me. Considering the circumstances, I was pretty proud of the way I’d conducted myself; though I wasn’t sure if leaving an exclusive party after arriving all of about ten minutes before was the best way to go about elevating myself in distinguished society. But it was Christmas Eve, there were more important issues in the world, so I decided to just let it go.

The taxi, in the meantime, had gone up the street a little, done a U-Turn when he realized he was heading north instead of south, and was now traveling back down the street to get onto the correct freeway. I couldn’t quite believe what I saw as we drove past the building that was hosting the party. Standing outside was Mr. Darcy himself, looking anxiously up and down the sidewalk. He seemed to catch sight of me in the taxi, but in humiliation I turned away. When I looked back, for some reason his eyes were still following my taxi.

When I got home I made a beeline for the freezer. Digging through the meat, fish and frozen vegetables I finally came across a half eaten Chocolate Bavarian Jane and I had attempted on our last ‘Chick Flick’ night. A Muppet Christmas Carol had apparently started on the TV twenty minutes before so I decided to see that through while I waited for Jane. Half way through the ending credits the door slammed and I heard the familiar sound of a handbag being tossed onto the table. Jane was home. She approached me and examined my face as if I were some sort of laboratory frog, presumably to see if I’d been crying.

“How are you Lizzy?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I replied with a mouth full of Bavarian.

Seeing I was genuine, Jane shot back with, “Great! Have I got news for you!”

“What?” I asked excitedly. “Wait, Wait! I know! You’re engaged!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lizzy. I’m talking about you. I think you may have an admirer.”

“Me? Jane, you do realize that was alcoholic punch, don’t you.”

“Well then it’s just as well I limited myself to Diet Coke and water the whole time, isn’t it. No, Lizzy. Honestly. There was a particular man at that party I’m sure was just itching to ask you out on a date!”

“You mean Bill Collins, don’t you. That IT technician guy? Yeah, I’m sure he was going to ask me on a date to McDonalds any time soon if I hadn’t of got out of there as quick as I did!” I laughed.

“No, Lizzy. No. Be serious. Now listen, after you left and I’d gone back into the party, this man came up to me and asked if I thought you’d be ok. I said ‘yes,’ of course, but my face must have betrayed my concern because he just nodded and then took off out the door. And you know who it was, Lizzy? It was—"

My mind immediately flashed back to the taxi incident. “Will Darcy,” we said together.

I wasn’t sure of how seriously I should take Jane’s story. It was one thing to be concerned for another’s wellbeing but quite another to be ‘itching’ to ask someone out. I decided to leave it be and not to dwell on it. I’d probably never see William Darcy again anyway.

The next day was Christmas. Jane and I went around to Mum and Dad’s for lunch. I copped the expected berating from Mum for being single over Christmas for the forth year running. Dad was pretty quiet, and my three younger sisters were on their regular behaviour – the two youngest loud and skittish, the other comparing our own family get-together with her philosophy course at University. Overall, nothing unusual.

We got home at around 3. Charlie had asked Jane out to Christmas dinner the last weekend so she was going out again while I stayed at home. My sister, not surprisingly, was concerned about leaving me at home on Christmas night by myself but I quieted her fears by reminding her the Australian Dancesport Championship was on tonight and I had also rented Strictly Ballroom and Moulin Rouge so I was fine until she got home.

Jane emerged from her three-hour seclusion in her bedroom and bathroom just as I came out of the kitchen with a bottle of Riccadonna in one hand and a packet of TimTams in the other. To say she looked beautiful would be an understatement.

“Didn’t you wear that on your birthday? Where did you say you were going again?”

“I don’t know. Charlie said it was a surprise.”

“How do you know you’re not going to Pizza Hut?”

“Because he also said I was to wear the dress I was wearing when he first met me. This is that one.”

I knew immediately from this hint what this particular date would involve. A discerning smile must have escaped me because Jane then asked, “What Lizzy?”

“Oh, I just think you had better meet Charlie outside. His raving on about you in here would interrupt my viewing!” I laughed.

The couple left as soon as Charlie arrived and I settled into a night on the lounge in front of the TV. Strictly Ballroom never ceases to amaze me even though I’ve seen it countless times. After that I watched Dancesports (my incident the day before fell into insignificance when one poor couple tripped during the Salsa), and then I must of fallen asleep somewhere around Come What May in Moulin Rouge because before I knew it Jane came bounding in to the house yelling “I’m engaged! We’re engaged!” Excitement for my sister instinctively made me jump off the lounge as soon as I’d registered what she’d said, but the 750mL of wine inside me had other ideas and I fell back down on the lounge. “Oh, Lizzy!” Jane half-sighed, half-laughed.

I watched her as she helped me to the table, turning to hug me once and me bear-hugging in return; as she took the dishes out of the dishwasher; as she made us both a huge cup of coffee each; as she sat back down and smiled at me so radiantly it would have torn your heart to see her otherwise.

“So where did he take you?”

“River cruise. There was a hot guy at the bar, by the way. You should have been there!”

“Obviously, then, he proposed to you after you got off the cruise if you remember such details as these.”

“Oh Lizzy, it was so incredibly romantic!”

“What did he do?”

“Well, we got off the boat and were just walking past the Swan Bells when he tripped on his shoelaces. Come to think of it, he did make a bit of a show of that. Anyway, he tied up his shoelace; and then all in one swift movement he turned around to face me (still on one knee, too!), pulled out this gorgeous little velvet box, opened it and asked me if I’d marry him! Of course I had to say yes!”

Jane asked me to be bridesmaid – I consented, and we talked well into the morning. I went to bed considering wedding presents and reflecting on how happy my sister was; how happy I was for her. I couldn’t help wondering, though, when my turn would come (if it did) and, more importantly, who it would be that I’d marry. I went to sleep with a head full of Zorro…

Part Four

Posted on Monday, 16 February 2004

Author's Note: For those of you who are unfamiliar with Perth, Subiaco is a beautiful suburb with a lot of history to the west of the city. Home of the West Coast Eagle's AFL team. Just thought I'd clarify that. :) Now, back to the study... *sigh*

Charlie and Jane had set the date for the wedding – 23rd June. Preparations were well under way almost immediately and were coming along great, but I had the impression Jane wasn’t telling me something. Imagine my shock, therefore, when in about mid-April I got an odd telephone call from what would seem as the most unlikely of callers.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is that Elizabeth?”

“Yes. Who is this please?”

“Will. William Darcy.”

“What?! I mean, excuse me?”

“Uh, it’s William. We met at…”

“Oh, yes. I know who you are. Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, probably very unconvincingly.

“Err, not as such, no. I mean… yes. Well… err… you are Jane’s Chief Bridesmaid at the wedding, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Mhmm. Well, err… I’m Charles’ Best Man. I was just wondering if you’d like to go out for lunch with me sometime.”

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I was going over this peculiar conversation, thus far, in my head. Shock #1: I discover William Darcy, of all people, has rung me. Shock #2: I find out that he’s best man at my sister’s wedding and therefore my partner for the event’s formalities. And finally, Shock #3: Completely out of the blue he asks me to lunch.

“Elizabeth? Are you still there?”

I realised the line had obviously been quiet for some time. “Err, yes. Sorry, but umm… did you just ask me to lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, right. Well then… um… when and where are we going?”

I could of sworn I heard a breath expelled on the other end of the line. “How about tomorrow, 1:00, at SoHo’s?”

I found myself agreeing and asking what to bring. I expected him to say something about speeches or anything wedding-orientated but all he said was, “Just yourself.” Lunch, the next day, at SoHo’s with William Darcy. Would the wonders never cease?

A feeling of regret came over me as I entered Subiaco’s most exclusive eatery. After all, here I was, scouring the room for a guy I’d been humiliated in front of twice. I found him sitting in a corner. Just great, I thought. Invites me to lunch and then hides in a corner in case he’s seen with Perth’s biggest loser. Instincts told me to turn and run but stubbornness told me that there was no possible way I could embarrass myself any more than I already have. Stubbornness won, of course, and as I approached the table William got up and held the chair for me.

After making the initial greetings and creating small talk, I couldn’t stop myself from asking why exactly I’d been asked here. There was blatant honestly in his eyes as he replied, “No particular reason.”

“So, you rang me just for the sake of it?”

“More or less, yes.”

Odd, surely. “How did you get my number?”

“Err… I got it off Jane. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jane?! He’d been talking to Jane? When? Where? Why didn’t I know about this? “Oh no, that’s fine.”

He smiled in reply and added, “I just figured that it would be a lot easier if we met and got acquainted better before the wedding. You know, so it’d be a little more comfortable.”

This slightly out of the ordinary – or, at least, completely unexpected on my part – explanation prompted me to think that there was perhaps a little more to this guy than met the eye.

Eventually the waiter came and asked us if we were ready to place our orders. I ran my eyes over the menu and gasped inwardly at the cheapest thing being a child-size Garden Salad for $14.50. Tempted though I was to run down to McDonalds and get relatively the same thing for around $4, if that, I ordered the plate while Will asked for a Warm Chicken Salad.

“Since when do men eat salads?” I asked.

“Since I know for a fact that a Warm Chicken Salad is the nearest thing you’ll get to value for money at this place.”

Once again, William Darcy had shocked me. Here was someone sitting across from me who had been featured in Cosmo (most likely more than once), had a reputation in business somewhere among the ranks of Frank Lowy and Rupert Murdoch, and he was ordering a salad because it was ‘value for money.’ But then again, it made sense. He was human, after all.

“So why do you come here then?”

“Because I love that salad.”

I mentally told myself, Note to self: Will Darcy loves SoHo’s Warm Chicken Salad. You never know when information like that could come in handy.

So we had lunch and were never at a loss for conversation. As Will told me more about himself and I learned a bit more than Cosmo’s revelation that he ‘loves his family, double-choc pudding and his dog Sallee,’ I had the feeling I’d heard a lot of what he’d said before. Immediately dismissing the thoughts, we continued to talk until I looked at my watch and nearly screamed. “Oh shhhh…ugar!”

“What is it?”

“Have you looked at the time? It’s 2:15! I was supposed to be back at work by 2:00!”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault…”

“No, don’t be ridiculous, it’s mine as well. Doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.”

I was retrieving my bag from under the table when Will offered me a ride back to work. “It’s the very least I could do.”

I sighed and resigned myself. “Is Hay Street ok? In the city.”

Once again he smiled and replied, “I’m going right by it.”

After paying the bill (that Will insisted on getting as well), we walked to his Saab that was parked a short way up the street. When he started it my eardrums were nearly blown out by the sudden impact of Bon Jovi chanting something about life out of the speakers. He immediately rushed for the volume control and turned it down to a dull roar.

“Sorry, can’t live without music!” he blushed.

“No, it’s ok. Me either.”

“Favourite song?”

“How Do I Live, by Trisha Yearwood. You know, off Con Air?”

“Yes, I do know it.”

“It’s weird, actually. I’m a bit of a dancer, but my favourite song is a slow one.”

“But it is a beautiful song.”

“Yes. So what’s yours?”

“At the moment, Victory, by Bond. Kind of motivational, you know?”

We talked about music the whole short trip back to my work. The radio was still on and after I’d said my thank yous, I reached over and turned it up a little. Kiss Me was playing. I looked over at Will, he had a strange expression on his face, and suddenly it all clicked into place. The parties; my careless actions; his saving me and my reputation (to some extent).

“What is alcohol soluble in, Will?”

“Water,” he replied quickly, perhaps without thinking.

My hand raced to cover my gasp as I realized who exactly I’d just spent the best part of an hour and a half talking with. I opened the door, stunned at the realization, and hastened towards my building.

***

I was still in a daze when I got up to my office. I asked Melinda, my Personal Assistant, if I had any messages, to which she replied, “Nothing except a pretty p’d off message from Carl ordering you to his office once you got in.”

“Why didn’t you page me?”

“I did. Twice.”

Slowly I made my way to Carl’s office, preparing mental comebacks at any attempt he might make to patronize me. I may have been half-an-hour late back from lunch, but I was still the best damn PR officer he had. I knew that for a fact due to last financial year’s figures and his constant praise of me work at formal meetings. Carl might have been a bit of a jerk, but he wasn’t stupid when it came to business.

His PA let me in, and he didn’t waste any time.

“And where the hell have you been?” he roared.

“Lunch,” I replied calmly.

“With who? Prince William?!”

“Almost.”

“Don’t play around with me, Elizabeth. I want to know exactly why you were half-an-hour late back so I can decide how much longer you’re going to remain in this company.”

“Ok Carl, it’s like this. 1) I don’t see how my being a half-hour late back after a lunch date for the first time in three and a half years is sufficient grounds to fire me when I know for a fact that that Lydia Barnes chic in Finance spends more time away from her office during working hours than in it; 2) I would watch what you say to me, Carl, because you owe me a hell of a lot more than I’ve ever got from you; 3) Not that it’s any of your business, but as it happens I was with a William - who might as well be a fricking Prince – because you know who it was Carl? Guess. Guess who it was.”

“Who was it, Elizabeth?” he spat back.

“William Darcy, Carl. Yeah. The William Darcy.”

Carl remained silent and I strutted back out of the room.

That night, shortly before Jane got home, I got another phone call.

“Hi Elizabeth. It’s Will.”

Oh gawd, I thought, and felt the blush rise to my face, glad that at least I was on the phone.

“Hi, Will.”

“I hope I didn’t lose you your job today.”

I couldn’t help laughing as I reassured him that, at least at present, I was still safe in employment. Then all of a sudden I turned serious, and launched into a full-blown apology for all the things I’d done and said both under and not under the influence. He listened to me ramble on for what seemed like forever and eventually, when I’d finished, he replied, “I’m pretty sure all that was an apology of some sort, but I wouldn’t know for sure as it all came out in one big blur. Anyway, if it was, there’s absolutely no need for it. Will you come to dinner with me Friday?”

“I… ahhh… ummm… dinner? Friday?”

“Yes.”

His confidence and habit of leaving me speechless was starting to get to me, and I fully expected he thought I’d make some lame excuse and refuse. But there was no way William Darcy, who was undoubtedly used to getting his own way, was going to win this one. I pulled up my chin, and replied, “Ok.”

Ten minutes later, Jane came home and asked, “So, how was lunch?”

Author’s Note: For those of you unfamiliar with Western Australia, here are some places that are mentioned in this post that might need some explaining.

FREMANTLE: About half an hour drive south of Perth. Famous for its heritage architecture. Home of AFL team Fremantle Dockers (but I won’t go into that, I support the rivals =p). More information, visit: Fremantle Tourist Page

NORTHBRIDGE: Inner city suburb of Perth also known for it’s café strip, but more for its assortment of nightclubs.

‘THE RIVER – SWAN’: Main waterway through Perth.

‘THE MAZE’: Destination popular for tourists and families. Main attraction is a huge maze that you walk through, and they also have tree mazes and shrub mazes. There’s also a mini-putt green as well as a wild life park. They have shops and cafes but most people prefer to picnic. More information, visit:The Maze Website

For general information about Perth and surrounding areas, visit: Perth Tourist Guide

Part Five

Posted on Saturday, 6 March 2004

It took her an hour, but Jane eventually started to get details out of me regarding the day’s events. We discussed, we scowled, we joked, we analyzed. We sat on the lounge room floor with two packets of barbeque crisps talking until midnight. Instead of Zorro, that night I went to bed with thoughts of Will Darcy flooding my head. Jane had come up with all sorts of outrageous predictions in her excitement – wedding dresses, homes, names for possible children and the like. But my unvoiced predictions, I felt, were much closer to reality. Dinner with Will was booked for 7pm Friday. That was tomorrow. No doubt, as usual I’d make a humiliating spectacle of myself in front of him and he’d swear to himself that he’d never ask me out again. Anytime we’d happen to cross paths afterwards there’d be an awkward smile and ‘hello.’ I knew how it would be, I’d seen it all too often before.

By morning my sanity was in shreds. I was so sure there was no hope for my reputation if I went and did exactly what I was destined to do. It was decided. I had to cancel.

I must have stood staring at the phone for at least fifteen minutes while I tossed up my options. I’d gone through the ‘Calls Received’ menu and found the only unfamiliar entry. My resolution, however, was not as decided as I thought. My heart said, “Yes! Go! So far he’s proved himself as a nice, genuine - not to mention caring – guy, and you should really get to know him.” My head, on the other hand, said, “Don’t be an idiot girl – you’ve got no hope!” I had started dialing the numbers when Jane hurried into the room with a towel on her head and exclaimed, “Lizzy! Look at the time! We’ve got to go in five minutes and you’re still in your pajamas!” Panicking, I put the phone down and rushed off, deciding to deal with the situation later.

Jane asked me why I was so quiet on the way to work, but I couldn’t confide my fears in her because I knew she’d try and talk me out of it. I just told her I was tired.

I got to work still imagining wine spills and make-up disasters. I’d only just booted up my computer in my office when the phone rang.

“Hi Elizabeth. It’s Will.” Will? Oh my gawd, he’s seen the light and beaten me to it.

“Will? How did you get this number? You’re incredibly resourceful!”

“Well, if I may be honest, a guy does not get to my position by being idle.”

“Point taken. Now what can I do for you?” Here we go. I may as well answer for him.

“I was wondering if it would be…” Ah hah! “…a great inconvenience…” If I cancelled… “…if I brought my younger sister along…” I felt myself straighten up. Did he just say what I thought he said? “…to dinner tonight.” There was a pause, and he continued, “Of course, if you’d rather not—"

“Oh no! Of course! I’d love to meet her!”

I could almost see him grinning on the other end of the line. “Great. Shall I pick you up at around 7?”

“I… ahh… sure. I’ll be ready. Where are we going, by the way?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said with a touch of excitement in his voice. “See you soon.”

When I reflected on that conversation, I realized how stupid I’d been. This guy was clearly interested, and when I thought about it, so was I. I was just insecure when it came to this situation that I was surprised at every attempt Will made to take the relationship further. I recalled part of my conversation with Jane the night before. I had asked her why, after only three months of knowing him, she had consented to spend the rest of her life with Charles. Her answer surprised me and I wasn’t sure if I could agree with it all, but it was spoken in complete earnest:

“I’ve finally found someone, Lizzy, that I love and trust with all of my being that I don’t want to waste any time messing around. What happens if one day comes and something’s happened to him? I don’t know how I’d go on, but at least I’d have the security of knowing that we’d spent as much time as we possibly could together. You only have one chance, Lizzy.”

You only have one chance. I’d better not blow mine.

So I, the queen of excuses (which was partly how I managed to get through high school), managed to leave work by about 4pm. On the way home, I tried to figure out where we’d be going that night. Will had taken me to SoHo’s for lunch, and his sister was coming with us. Chances were we wouldn’t be going to some quiet, intimate place. I’d have to get out my best.

As I wasn’t intending on following through with this date before I left for work, I got home with no idea what I was going to wear. Raiding Jane’s wardrobe, I put on a sexy Lisa Ho number that I thought didn’t do nearly as much for my figure as it did for her, but would do. I got out the hairdryer and hot tongs and attempted to give some sort of structure to my unruly curls. By the time I’d added the finishing touches to my lipstick, I heard the doorbell. Jane, who had arrived home earlier, rushed to answer it. I heard Will come in and greet Jane.

“Hi, Will. Lizzy’s just getting ready. She should be out any minute.”

This was it. There’s no turning back now. It was Judgement Day.

I took a final look in the mirror and walked out. As I entered the living room, Will’s eyes met mine and he smiled, but before either of us got to say anything, Jane broke the moment with, “Hey! That’s my dress!”

“Not anymore,” Will said quietly. I felt the blush rise to my cheeks.

Jane smiled knowingly and replied, “Yes, well, Lizzy and I will discuss that when she gets home. Off you two go. Don’t be back to early.”

“Yes Mum,” I said as Will led me out the door.

After Will explained to me that his sister, Georgiana, and her boyfriend would be meeting us at the venue, he said, “A penny for your thoughts?”

“I believe, Mr. Darcy, that at present we are in Western Australia as opposed to Great Britain so the more suitable enquiry would be ‘Approximately 4 cents for your thoughts?’”

He laughed and replied, “Ok, that then.”

“I was just wondering.”

“Wondering about what, if I may ask?”

“Various things. Where you’re taking me, for a start; what on earth possessed you to ring me that first time; if I’ve worn the right dress tonight, that sort of thing.”

“Well I can answer all that, but I won’t just now, except that your dress is beautiful.”

“Yes, but is it ok for where we’re going?”

“It’s perfect. Don’t worry.”

So I didn’t, but I wondered why he wouldn’t tell me why he initially called.

I realized as we drove along we were headed towards Fremantle. Soon after we parked outside a restaurant that went for the description of ‘charming’ as opposed to SoHo’s ‘exclusive.’ I looked around in awe as I entered on Will’s arm – he must have noticed because he whispered, “We’re not there yet,” and led me up a flight of stairs.

We were led to our table and I noticed that all the tables on the upper level surrounded a polished timber dance floor. I couldn’t help but grin.

Georgiana and I got on well immediately, and her boyfriend Mark was nice enough. Perhaps not the type I would have gone for, but he and Georgiana seemed fairly happy.

After dinner, Will looked to me and said, “Miss. Bennet, may I have the first dance?” I offered my hand in reply and he took me to the dance floor, Georgiana and Mark following behind. Will pleasantly surprised me at being a very apt dancer. When the song finished, we swapped partners, but I knew who I preferred. For a few dances everyone on the floor randomly swapped and finally, after everyone had joined in the Macarena, I went back to my original partner. I noticed Will steal a glance at the DJ, and when Van Morrison’s Someone Like You filled the room, I think I knew why.

As the song drew to a close I asked what the time was.

“About 12:30.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Neither do I, but they’re closing.”

“I want to keep dancing.”

“We’ll find somewhere else.”

All four of us left at the same time. Georgiana and Mark were going back to their hotel. They were only in town for a fortnight visiting Will from London. Will and I, in the meantime, drove back to the city. He asked me if I wanted to go to Northbridge, but I refused. Instead, I asked if we could go to the river. He complied, and we spent about an hour walking serenely hand-in-hand along the Swan.

I must have fallen asleep in the car on the way home because all of a sudden I felt Will gently shaking me awake, “Come on, we’re home.”

For a moment I thought I was dreaming. “Home?”

“Elizabeth and Jane’s House. Or so it says above the door, anyway.”

“Oh.”

He helped me to the door and into the living room, where I vaguely acknowledged Charlie on the couch drinking coffee. Jane came out and steered me into my bedroom. I slept peacefully that night.

Some muffled noises coming from the kitchen woke me the next morning. It was there I discovered Charlie making sandwiches and Jane making something that seemed to resemble coleslaw.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, good morning Lizzy!” Jane said as Charlie looked up and smiled. “We’re going to The Maze, and you’re coming too.”

“I am?”

“Yes. William will be back soon with the cold meat. You’d better get ready, we’re leaving soon.”

“He will? We are?”

It was then Will walked in laden with plastic grocery bags promoting recycling. I turned to face him and before I knew it he hads his arms around me and kissing my forehead saying something about good morning and sleep.

“Good morning, Will,” I smiled. “I’m sorry, but I’ve just crawled out of bed and am still trying to grasp all this. Is it correct that you and I are accompanying these two to The Maze?

“Yes.”

“Right. And we’re leaving in about how long?”

“No more than half an hour.”

“Ok. I’ll just get ready, then.”

When we arrived at the destination, Jane and Charlie headed for the mini-putt while I excitedly led Will to the main attraction. It took us a while to get through – Will had this habit of kissing me every time we got to a dead end. When we finally made it out of the maze, we met the others at the car. We got out the picnic stuff and found a place to set up under a tree. Charlie and Jane had put together a huge and beautiful lunch and we all just sat on the picnic rug talking, eating and laughing.

Eventually, the engaged couple took off to complete the mazes. Will, who was leaning against the tree, looked down at me – lying on his stomach absently chomping on bits of carrot. “I have something I have to share with you.”

“Really? Is it chocolate?”

“No, but I’m sure I can bring you back some.”

“Are you going to the shop?”

“Not at the moment. That’s what I have to share with you. I’m going to Belgium in two weeks.”

I felt as if someone had struck me in the stomach. “Oh.”

“Darcy Industries is looking at putting some offices there. I’m flying back to London with Georgie and Mark to see my parents for two days, then flying over to Brussels.”

“How long will you be gone?” I almost dreaded the answer. Will would be going home for two days. What’s stopping him from staying there when the Belgium part was over? He wasn't permanently based in Perth, after all.

“A month. Perhaps a bit longer, but I guarantee I’ll be back for Charles’ wedding.”

I sat up and started. “What about—" I had to stop myself. I was being selfish.

“What about… what?”

“What about… What about me?”

He just smiled and hugged me.

Two weeks later, I was standing at Perth airport with Will’s ticket in my hand while he went to get some magazines for the trip. When he came back I held up the tickets and said, “I could just run out of the terminal now with these and you’ll miss your flight and you won’t be able to go.”

He grabbed them. “You could have, but it’s a bit late now.” All of a sudden his eyes turned serious. “Will you wait for me?”

I was scared at his sudden change of temperament, so I tried to make light of it. “Ohhhh, I dunno…” I replied, looking towards the escalator that led outside.

But he put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. To avoid eye contact would have been like kicking him in the shins at that moment. “No, really Lizzy…” Lizzy? He’d never called me ‘Lizzy’ before, it had always been Elizabeth. “…will you wait for me?”

I pulled him close and whispered, “Yes.”

Part Six

Posted on Sunday, 4 April 2004

The previous two weeks had been great. Will and I had really got to know each other and he was extremely happy to learn that Georgiana and I had got on so well. He was surprised (but really impressed) to learn that I had contacted her and organized a day of shopping in the city. As well as that, somehow he managed to monopolize most of my time, but I found myself wanting to spend it with him and didn’t mind if he spontaneously called me and asked me if we could meet up.

Sometimes I wondered if we were moving a bit too fast. We hadn’t done anything too serious just yet, but I had the feeling that if things kept going the way they were it wouldn’t be too long before it did. It seemed to me that Will kept making subtle hints, but I wasn’t sure how far I should read into them, if at all. For example, three days before he left, he rang me at work.

“Hi, Elizabeth.”

“Hi yourself,” I smiled.

“What are you doing after work?”

“Hmm… going by my habits the past two weeks, probably doing something with you.”

“Great. Have you got a present yet?”

“For who?”

“Charles and Jane.”

“Present… present… no.”

“Even better. Would you like to come down town to get one this evening?”

I was stunned. I didn’t know if he wanted to get a present with me or with me. “Um, what did you have in mind?” I asked nervously.

“I wouldn’t have a clue,” he replied easily. “I was hoping you could lend me your expertise so I could buy something worthwhile. You know, women are so much better at this sort of thing.”

“Well I’m sure we can come up with something. For you. To give them.”

“Err… yes. Yes, that was the idea.”

“Ok. Meet me outside at five?”

“I’ll be there.”

So we went into the city. Browsing through Myer, Will decided he’d buy them a huge hi-fi stereo. It had to be ordered in so he couldn’t take it then. To compliment that, I bought a huge range of cds, leaving them at the store to be packaged and gift wrapped – which would also ensure that Jane wouldn’t discover them at home. Having got the official business out of the way, we casually walked around the CBD. It was Friday, therefore late night shopping. Will wandered off when I went into a shop looking at shoes, but came back with a little box in his hand.

“I really don’t want to go away because it means I won’t get to see you for a whole month, so I bought you this.”

“I thought the only present-buying today was for the happy couple,” I joked, but eyeing the mysterious box.

“Aren’t we a happy couple?”

I panicked slightly. “Um, to an extent… I suppose…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t like where this was heading. “Well, we’ve only been seeing each other officially for about two weeks.”

“True,” he said, handing me the box and giving me a peck on the cheek. Inside I found a little chocolate rabbit holding a love heart.

“Awwww!” I gushed. “It’s so gorgeous! Where did you get it?”

“At a small chocolatier’s shop just down the way.”

“I don’t want to eat it. It’s so cute!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you want to eat it.”

I gave Will a hug and we continued to walk around aimlessly, hand in hand.

After that he drove me home, and I asked him inside for dinner, explaining that it was more likely to be baked beans on toast than steak diane.

“Better than a bowl of cereal if I go home,” he reasoned.

Inside, there was a note from Jane saying she’d gone for dinner with Charles and Caroline and would be back before midnight.

“Sad girl, it’s Friday night!” I chuckled.

We did end up having baked beans for dinner. Will, in evidently an attempt to create a slightly more romantic atmosphere, after failing to find some normal candles lit the clown-shaped ones he found on top of the TV cabinet that Jane and I had got for Christmas when we were younger. He placed them on the table and gave the scene a look of his satisfaction. Over dinner, we asked each other questions which developed into a kind of game.

“First pet?” he asked me.

“A dog named Over.”

“Over?”

“I was three and Rover was too hard to say. First schoolyard fight?”

“Against my cousin Richard. I was six, he was eight. I kicked his arse. Deep, dark fear?”

“My mother’s soup. You never know what she’s put in there.”

And so it continued until Jane came home at eleven. She said hi and continued walking to her bedroom saying she was tired and had no idea Caroline could talk so much. Will and I decided to clear up and then watch a video. We put in Pearl Harbour and before I knew it I was asleep.

I woke up the next morning thinking my pillow was harder than usual. It was then I realised I'd gone to sleep with my head on Will’s chest. Smiling, I got up to make breakfast. Eventually, Will got up, sneaking up and hugging me from behind. Feigning shock, I turned and said, “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be going home last night.” I eyed him suspiciously, “Are you stalking me?”

“Why yes, ma’am. I am surprised it took you so long to notice. But in case you’ve forgotten, you went to sleep on me last night. I actually wanted to go home but didn’t want to wake you out of the goodness of my heart, so I stayed.”

“That’s a blatant lie. You were just taking advantage of the situation.”

“Hmm… you’re right, I was,” he grinned mischievously, showering me with kisses.

Will announced after lunch that he’d better be getting home. He and I were sitting on the couch paying more attention to each other than whatever was on the television we were supposedly watching. I tried to convince him otherwise. Then he reminded me he had to go home to get ready for leaving on Monday, at which I immediately became downcast. He noticed, and said, “It’s only for a month. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I won’t even notice you’re gone,” I repeated, “that’s like saying I wouldn’t notice if a nuclear explosion hit the earth and everyone around me was dead.”

“Now, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You’d better at least bring me back a souvenir,” I pouted.

“You can be assured I’ll bring you back several.”

I didn’t realize how lovesick I was until Jane told me the Wednesday after Will left, “Oh, get a grip on yourself, Lizzy. You’re behaving like a spoilt teenager!”

“Well, how would you like it if Charlie was over the other side of the world for a month?!” I argued.

“So it IS serious!”

“Well,” I smiled, “not serious serious, but serious.”

“Righhhhhhhhht.”

“No, really!”

“Mmm hmm. Anyway, only about twenty-five days to go.”

“Twenty-nine!”

Apparently people at work were noticing my lowered spirits as well. That day Charlotte, a good friend and fellow PR Officer, told me we were going to Northbridge for drinks after work. At the bar, I gave her all the latest on the Me-William situation, and she sympathized to an extent, but tended to agree with Jane’s synopsis. We were just about on to our third round when two glasses were placed before us. “From the gents at table 9,” said the barman, to which we looked around in order to see who the generous men were. Catching our eye, they got up and walked towards us.

“Marcus Denny,” said the first, offering his hand to Charlotte.

“George Wickham,” smiled the other, slightly handsomer guy, sitting down beside me.

Part Seven

Posted on Saturday, 10 April 2004

Given my low alcohol tolerance, you can imagine that by the end of the third round I wasn’t in exactly the steadiest of conditions. Charlotte was watching me though, in between an in-depth conversation with this Marcus Denny, while I was chatting animatedly to George Wickham. I think I must have been on the verge of walking out of the bar with him, because Charlotte suddenly grabbed me by the arm with a meaningful look and said, “Right! Well, I think it’s about time to go!” I slipped George my number and left.

In the taxi, Charlotte ripped into me straight away.

“Just what in the h*** did you think you were doing in there?”

I giggled an embarrassingly drunken giggle and asked innocently, “What?”

“What?! What about Will, that’s what! You tell me you’re in a half-serious relationship with him and then when he has to go away for a month you flirt shamelessly with the first guy you come across!”

I sobered up immediately when Charlotte put it like that. “I miss Will.”

Sighing, she replied, “Have you rung him?”

“No.”

“Has he rung you?”

“No.”

“Do you have his number?”

I gave an exaggerated ‘um’ and finally answered in the affirmative.

“Right. You’re calling him as soon as you get home.”

Charlotte walked me to the door. Jane came to meet us but I walked past her and sat inside at the table. Charlie was supposedly sitting on the couch but must have noticed my state because he didn’t say anything. Then Charlotte left, and Jane came in to try and console me because I’d started crying. After a bit she took me over to the phone and dialled the number I dictated. Charlie’s interest was surely piqued; he would have recognized the number. Will answered and, registering his voice together with the heavy influence of alcohol, I started sobbing once again.

“Elizabeth? Lizzy, is that you?”

“Yes,” I sniffed.

“What’s wrong? What are you doing? Where are you? Do you want me to come and get you?” he rambled automatically.

“You’re in EUROPE!”

“Oh yes of course. Sorry. What’s wrong?”

In a drunken haze I replied, “I miss you.”

Will and I talked through the night. By the time I had reluctantly replaced the receiver I noticed not only had Charlie and Jane departed from the couch but it was also starting to get light outside. Two hours sleep was all I was allowed before I had to get up for work. Needless to say, a hangover combined with lack of sleep is not the best combination for the start to a day.

The surprise was all mine when George rang me up at work that morning. He wanted to know if I’d go out for lunch with him and I thought, as friends, why not? I told Charlotte in passing and she seemed slightly against the scheme, but I assured her anything between George and I was purely platonic. I’d only known him less than a day and, after all, I added proudly, I was taken.

George didn’t take me to an exclusive restaurant like Will, instead he treated me to lunch at was a quaint corner café. We talked, and when it passed that I was seeing someone I was glad to see George didn’t think I was just leading him on. Instead, he smiled and replied “I’d hardly think a beautiful and charming woman like you would be single.” We had a pleasant lunch and chatted amicably.

After that lunch, George never called me again. I didn’t really mind. I was too wrapped up in waiting for Will to come back. On reflection, however, I realized through all the conversation my new friend and I had shared we tackled a variety of different subjects – but one never discussed was George himself.

Finally it was June. Will was flying in on the 4th and I was beside myself with excitement. Jane and Charlie were excited too – it was less than four weeks until their wedding.

When the day of Will’s arrival came, I couldn’t control my anticipation. Carl came in to brief me on my next project but ended up leaving the notes on my desk unaddressed because he couldn’t get me to concentrate. Charlotte had a one-sided conversation in the tea room while I stared into space absently stirring my cold coffee. I checked myself repeatedly during the day from ringing Will just to see if he was on the right flight – I had done that that morning. I had also offered to collect him from the airport. He told me Charlie was already booked and was quite capable of doing it but I was going too just to make sure.

Jane and Charlie were browsing around the airport shops while I was helplessly glued to the window area, watching for when that plane came in. I couldn’t believe myself. My behaviour was like something out of one of Mum’s Mills & Boon books she kept hidden under her bed – but I couldn’t stop it. I paced, I sat, I stood, I fidgeted; all the while just waiting. When the flight finally came in, the other couple came and stood behind me, I’d imagine sufficiently amused at the scene being played out in front of them.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. Someone had come out wearing a black mask, suit and cape – I initially thought it must have been one of those teenage boys going through their angst period. But when the guy dropped his bags and started coming toward me it clicked. It was my Zorro.

“Will, what in the name of *** are you wearing?!” said Charlie, slightly shocked and interrupting out rendezvous.

“Don’t worry Charles, personal joke.”

“You would of looked like the biggest idiot if I hadn’t have turned up,” I laughed. “You didn’t wear that all flight, did you?”

“Yes I would of, no I did not. I only got in it just before we had to be seated for descent. You can’t imagine the looks I got – going into the bathroom looking like a respectable gentleman and coming out resembling something from the dark side.”

“It’s all incredibly romantic,” remarked Jane wistfully.

Charlie, possibly slightly put-out that he hadn’t thought of anything ‘incredibly romantic,’ cut in with “How about dinner?”

When all was concluded at the airport we got pizza and went back to our place. Jane and Charlie were at the table, good-naturedly arguing about wedding preparations, Will and I were on the lounge while he told me about his trip. When he finished, he said “I missed you so, so, so much.”

“I missed you even more.” At that he laughed, and I stared in disbelief that he had the audacity to doubt me. “What?!”

“How many did you have that night?”

“Oh,” I blushed, “not many, but you know me.”

“Hmm… yes. Anyway, tell me what you did while I was gone.”

“Beside miss you? Well, as it happened, I made a friend that first night I rang.”

“Oh yes…”

“Yeah, I met him at the bar with Charlotte.” I couldn’t help but be gratified at Will’s change of countenance at the word ‘him.’ “But don’t worry,” I reassured Will, “I told him I was already taken.”

“I’ll bet he didn’t take that too well,” Will joked.

“He was pretty good about it, actually. Not that he was hitting on me or anything in the first place.”

“Good. So did you see him again?”

“Yes. We went to lunch the next day.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “Lunch? The next day? Not to SoHo’s I hope. Should I be jealous?”

“No, no. I’m not interested in anything beyond friends. I have you!”

“Right. So does ‘he’ have a name?”

George was just a nice guy I happened to meet at a bar that I went out to lunch with after. There was no harm in that. We were just friends. I had told George I was taken so Will had nothing to worry about. Despite all this, and all the reassurances I’d given Will regarding the nature of our relationship, I could not have been more surprised at Will’s reaction when I innocently replied, “George Wickham.”

Part Eight

Posted on Friday, 23 April 2004

Perhaps ‘surprised’ isn’t the right word. ‘Astounded’ would be closer to the truth. But quite honestly, to this day I’m still not exactly sure what was said or done in those few heated moments. All I’m sure of is that Will had disastrously criticized my new friend and had offered no justification for his allegations. It felt like we were arguing for hours, but I’m sure Jane and Charlie wouldn’t of sat by in stunned silence for hours – it was only when, in the corner of my eye, I noticed Charlie get up and make a move to break it up that I turned and fled out of the house, picking up my keys on the way.

Jane caught up with me at my car but I told her, in not very eloquent language, to leave me alone.

I drove with no idea of my destination. I turned on the radio, but didn’t hear the music. I realized that Will and I had had our first fight that night – the night he had come back from our month apart. It was intense, it was scary, and I started to wonder exactly what I’d said and how much I might have hurt him. But then I rebuked myself, remembering it was him in the wrong, causing an argument without the arguments to support himself. Thoughts of him as I’d just seen him contrasted dramatically with the pleasant images I had, the photo sitting in my wallet as I drove that Jane had taken of us at The Maze.

My appearance must have said it all when I walked into that Northbridge bar I’d been in with Charlotte all those weeks before – the barman took one look at me and offered my first drink on the house. Subconsciously, I was searching for an explanation as I looked in vain for George. Will had freaked beyond all sense of the word when I said his name. He obviously hated him; ‘thorough dislike,’ as my mother had always told me to refer to such feelings, just didn’t seem to do justice.

Four or five drinks later, George turned up alone. He noticed there was something wrong and immediately tried to get it out of me. At first I was reluctant; but when he shouted the next round, I launched into a huge missive describing how I’d got into a huge row with my boyfriend who was evidently jealous of one of my guy friends, and had only just today got back from a month trip in Belgium. George was particularly sympathetic; we talked for ages, and next thing I knew I was kissing him.

It is a strange feeling being pulled from behind when you’re kissing someone. I should know – my big sister did it to me that night. I turned around in my intoxicated state expecting to see Charlotte or my mother about to give me a scolding. Instead, I received then the harshest reprimand I’ve ever received in the whole course of my life. I caught sight of Will, standing slightly further away, looking so intensely hurt, so completely wounded that I couldn’t believe I was the cause of it. Charlie was next to him and started pushing him towards the exit. I don’t know what happened to George.

“Oh Lizzy…” Jane repeated when I had burst into tears for the hundredth time. We had gone home in my car and Charlie had taken Will back to his place in Jane’s after 'the incident.’ “Look, your pillow’s a mess. Let me go find some handkerchiefs. I’ll be back in a second.”

While she was gone, Jane’s mobile beeped indicating she’d got a text message. I picked it up and read it, it was from Charlie. “Will said to make sure she has lots of water.” That set me off again.

In between crying Jane and I talked a lot about the situation that night. She said she knew a bit about why Will was so against George, they had all discussed it while they were looking for me. Jane wouldn’t reveal anything though; she said it was for Will and I to talk about. I sighed, thinking anything between me and Will had escaped into oblivion. Jane told me not to give up hope: “You didn’t see him while we were looking for you tonight.”

“You didn’t see him in the bar!” I retaliated bitterly.

Jane gave me a run down on “The Quest for Lizzy.” They had rung Mum and Dad’s place and a few friends' before Will thought of Charlotte. His hunch proved to be right – she told them of the bar we were at the night we met George and it was pretty likely that, given the situation and knowing me, that’s where I’d be. Apparently the whole time Will was beside himself in worry and constantly berating himself for our argument.

Just after noon the next day, completely forgetting Will had recently come from the other side of the world, I rang Charlie’s place.

“Oh, I'm sorry Lizzy. He’s sleeping off his jetlag. Pretty exhausted, you know?”

“Can you just tell him I called when he’s up and stable?”

“Sure. Are you ok?”

The last thing I wanted to talk about was me so I answered quickly and politely hung up.

It was a beautiful Saturday and I spent the whole of it indoors going over the fight, trying to figure out what happened. I was alone; Jane and Charlie had appointments regarding their upcoming wedding. Thinking of the wedding, I wondered if all would be resolved by then and if Will and I could dance, if not amiably, civilly at least, during the bridal party waltz. In a fit of self-scolding I finally concluded that:

a) Absolutely everything was my fault.

b) Given (a), there’s a fairly strong chance I’ll never hear from Will again

c) I had far too high a dependency on alcohol given my body's low tolerance for it.

Will came around on Sunday. At first I was a bit scared – he probably sensed or saw it because he came in and hugged me, telling me repeatedly how sorry he was. We sat down and talked, he explained his history with George. It turned out that, amongst other things, George had tried to ‘have his way’ with Georgiana. Mark, Georgiana’s boyfriend I had met that night we went to dinner, had found them and stopped it in time before George had gone too far. To say I was shocked would be a gross understatement. George had seemed like such a nice, honest, caring guy. My thoughts flew back to Friday night and what might have happened if Jane had not of turned up. I looked over at Will and realized exactly what I had nearly thrown away.

It wasn’t a subject I wanted to discuss, but when Will approached it I knew I had to, for my own good.

“Lizzy, I really want to talk about this little issue of yours.”

I sighed sadly, “I know.”

“I don’t want my girl to get hurt if she continues the way she is.”

Touched, I replied, “I’ll try to do better.”

“It’s going to have to go further than trying, Lizzy.”

“Will you help me?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jane and I had stayed at Mum and Dad’s for her last night as a Bennet. It delighted us all to see Jane so happy and contented, as she deserved to be. We had a special family dinner and her childhood favourite dessert – apple pie and ice cream. Jane and I slept in the same room, as we did when we lived under this roof, and talked and giggled the night away, eventually getting to sleep (well, me at least) in the early hours of the morning.

The blushing bride looked picturesque and beyond anything we might have imagined. A delighted glow coming from inside her illuminated the picture becomingly. By three o’clock, it was time for pictures and preparations to cease and head to the church. All the way there, I had Going to the Chapel running annoyingly through my head while Jane laughed with her other bridesmaids. I looked at the scene, and wished so much that my turn would come soon.

All the men were waiting patiently at the end of the aisle when I peeked in to look. There were no “fashionably late” entrances for Jane; she is as punctual as they come. I heard the music strike up from within, Dad say “This is it!” and the first bridesmaid make her way inside and down the aisle. Then the second went, and soon after it was my turn. I tried to focus on what I had to do, i.e. getting to the other end and standing in my place as practiced in rehearsal, but as I got half way down I took one look at Will’s smiling face and lost all composure. My big sister was getting married.

By the ‘I do’, I was suitably better and Bridesmaid #2 had cleared away any stray mascara. I saw Will have a chuckle to himself every now and then but I couldn’t be more embarrassed, knowing that at least a third of the guests had caught my outbreak of tears on camera and, even worse, that at least three had caught it on film. Jane, of course, thought it gorgeous that her little sister had got sentimental on her wedding day, but the stubborn, proud part of me was bruised for life.

Will could not resist teasing me during a majority of our many dances together, pretending to wipe away tears whenever the situation afforded.

“If you’re going to keep on like that,” I argued defensively, “I’ll give you over to Mum, then you’ll have something to cry about!”

We both laughed, but after that he stopped.

It was the best wedding I had ever attended to date, and I was even happier as Will had helped me to come out of it relatively sober. When the newlyweds had left, we came out of the hall soon after, and stood in the car park talking for a while. All of a sudden Will got down on one knee and asked me, “Lizzy, will you marry me?”

Part Nine

Posted on Friday, 18 June 2004

It must be noted that, while I was by no means drunk, I was tipsy, and so I giggled as I replied, “I’m sorry Will, I can’t.”

Will, on the other hand, sober as a judge but looking delightfully funny down on one knee in a car park, dressed in his impeccable Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo, was considerably surprised. With a hint of doubt in his tone, he asked, “Are you serious?”

“Perfectly so, thank you.”

Somewhat taken aback, he rose and said, “And is this all the reply I am to expect?”

“Not unless you care to ask for an explanation, to which I will gladly give at your request.”

“By all means!”

So we sat on the bonnet of his car and I explained. I told him that, while I do love him, it seemed to me slightly ridiculous to enter into a marriage so soon, and when we knew so little of each other – no matter how much my heart might protest. Too much was at risk. But even my level-headed Zorro missed the point, and replied, “That’s absurd! We’ll spend our whole life getting to know each other. Isn’t that the objective?”

I reminded him we’d only been ‘going out’ for about 2 months.

“But we’ve known each other since last September,” he pouted back.

I quickly kissed the pout away, and replied, “Try again later.”

With that contemplating look I’d found he assumed sometimes, he asked, “How much later?”

Jane, naturally, moved out of our little unit into a new house with Charlie in one of the slightly more well-to-do areas of Perth. Charlotte moved into Jane’s room – she was sick of living with her parents and much younger siblings; I needed someone to halve the rent. Will half-expected me to ask him to move in with me, I’m sure, but I told him that would “defeat the purpose of everything.” He looked slightly curious at that statement, but never said anything.

Months passed. Will was working and making sporadic trips between Perth and the other capitals, but he was never away for more than a week. In the meantime, I had had an interesting phone call at work.

It was a Wednesday, Will was away and everyone in the office was anticipating the weekend. Myself particularly, as Will was coming home from Sydney that Friday night. While idly daydreaming, Melinda came in and announced a call on line two. Picking up, I ascertained it was Robert Wayne, Human Resource Manager at the Australian office of AUCO Enterprises, located in Sydney.

“Good morning, and what can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?”

“Ms. Bennet, in about twelve weeks AUCO will have a position opening for a director of Public Relations. We are somewhat aware of your knowledge, expertise, and accomplishments in your profession, and therefore would like to offer you this position.”

I was shocked to say the least. Not only was this offer completely unexpected: I – a Perth girl working for a relatively small company – was being asked to be a department head in a world-renowned company. The notion all seemed rather absurd and impossible.

Will had to be behind this.

There was lengthy silence that I eventually became aware of, and so I started again. “Let me get this right, Mr. Wayne. The Sydney office of a world-renowned company is soon to be without a Director of PR, correct?”

He replied, albeit in a guarded tone, that it was.

“Right. And you, as HR Manager at this company, are offering me this rather elevated position.”

“That is correct.”

“May I be so impudent, Mr. Wayne, as to ask you how it was that you came into knowledge of my ‘accomplishments’?”

He sounded a bit surprised at this turn of conversation, but nevertheless replied, “AUCO has contacts, Ms. Bennet. One of them suggested you, so we did our research. We were quite impressed by what you had done for your present employer, as well as your Manager’s appraisal of your work.” My Manager’s appraisal? “Are you questioning your validity for the position, ma’am?”

Speechless for a moment, I replied, “I was merely astounded that such a major company had knowledge of me and my accomplishments.” Before he had time to withdraw his offer, I asked Mr. Wayne if I might have time to consider it.

“By all means, it is an important decision. Please contact us with your answer by the end of the week.” End of the week?! “Should you accept, we will fly you over to Sydney for an interview within the fortnight and take things from there.”

I quickly considered my options. “Very well. I thank you, Mr. Wayne, for your call and your offer. I will be sure to contact you as soon as I make my decision. Goodbye.”

Someone had some explaining to do.

***

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Explain yourself.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why, exactly, did I just get a phone call from AUCO offering me a job in Sydney when, surprise surprise, I just happen to be involved with the CEO of Darcy Industries that, surprise surprise, just happens to have his head offices in Sydney too?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh! I knew you were behind this!”

“Well, it helps to have contacts in high places, doesn’t it? Aren’t you happy? This is a big career move!”

“I’m not sure whether I’m happy or not, yet. You could have warned me. And I’m not quite sure I want to leave Perth. I’m happy here.”

“Working with Carl?” Will replied skeptically.

“In case you’ve forgotten, my family is here, my friends are here, and I’m reasonably happy in my job.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to take it; I just wanted to make sure you got the first offer.” He sounded slightly hurt. I sighed.

“Don’t try doing the whole guilt-trip-for-Elizabeth-I-was-just-being-noble thing with me. You could have told me instead of plotting and scheming behind my back.”

“I could have. I didn’t. I’m sorry. Anyway, are you going to take it?”

“Will! It’s not the sort of decision you make in ten minutes!” I could not believe he seemed to assume I would just automatically jump at the chance and go.

“It’s not as if you don’t have time to think about it, the position opens in twelve weeks.”

“I have to give them an answer by the end of the week,” I deadpanned.

“Well, that’s… time...”

“Ugh! I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up, still undecided on whether I was infuriated or ecstatic. Friday morning rolled around, and I was yet to make a decision. In a moment of determined spontaneity, I picked up the phone at work and dialed Mr. Wayne, gratefully accepting his offer.

There was a degree of tension when I picked Will up that night, as there had been the past two nights when we had spoken on the phone. I knew he’d be ecstatic that I’d accepted the offer, but I wanted to see him suffer just a little bit longer. When he came into the airport, I pretended I was little more than indifferent to seeing him; and he, in turn, responded much the same. We did our usual greeting we do after we’d been apart for a period, but it was obviously more restrained. We got his luggage and started towards outside and the car. But by the airport doors, I couldn’t take it any longer. Quietly, I started, “I rang up Mr. Wayne today and accepted his offer…” At this I looked up to see Will staring at me in amazement. Before I knew it, he was kissing me so delightedly that I was sure I’d made the right decision.

Such a show at the airport entrance was an unexpected surprise for the security guards, and after an indeterminable time we were ordered out of the public building. Will couldn’t stop gushing about my great decision all the way to the car and all the way back to his place. Eventually, he asked, “Have you told anyone else?”

“No, I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Not even Jane?”

“No.”

This made him even happier, and he declared he was ringing the Bingley’s and we were going out for a celebratory dinner.

“Will! It’s only an interview at the moment!”

“I don’t care. I’m so proud of my girl and I want everyone to know it!”

Amused and - I’ll admit - flattered by his enthusiasm, I agreed to the scheme. An hour and a half later we were off to our local dine-in pizza parlour (I’d pointedly refused to go anywhere else as I had no change of clothes at Will’s unit and was not going home to get dressed up at that time of night). On the way there, we talked about how the whole job offer thing had come about. Half way through his spiel, he became silent.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Liz. I’ve just realized how incredible self-centred and inconsiderate I’ve been. You know, if you honestly don’t want to do this, don’t do it. Please, if you feel I’ve pressured you into all this, don’t do it. I wouldn’t hate anything more in the world than to be the cause of your unhappiness.”

I assured him that could never happen, “well, not a really bad unhappiness anyway, but I still retain the right to hold a temporary grudge with you every now and then – just to keep you in line, you know. Anyway,” I continued, “it’s only an interview at this stage, remember. I might not even get through. But at least I didn’t throw away the opportunity.”

The restaurant was packed, but we managed to find a just-cleared booth in a corner next to a window. Jane and Charlie had waited outside for us, and so we all walked in together. Evidently the establishment had a 60’s and 70’s theme – posters featuring celebrities such as Elizabeth Taylor and Tony Curtis beamed down from the walls, and The Grease Megamix was blaring from the jukebox. Jane and I instantly liked the look of this place, and Will slyly pointed out that there appeared to be a small elevated dance floor in another corner.

We all chatted constantly over copious helpings of pizza. Charlie and Jane were genuinely excited about my news, and I didn’t notice Will taking longer than would be expected getting our second pizza. Later, we got up to take advantage of the dance floor. At about 10pm, I recognized the starting notes of a certain song come out of the jukebox, but the music was quieting down. Will took the opportunity to say to me, “Look at the chalkboard, Liz.”

Amongst the melody of Someone Like You, there on the what-was menu board, was a message written in bold red surrounded by love hearts:

Once again, Will had surprised me beyond belief. But this time, I was completely and utterly sober. I looked at Will, who was looking at me so hopefully and earnestly. Then I glanced at Charlie and Jane, who were both shouting “SAY YES!!” but I couldn’t seem to hear them. I considered everything, contemplated the situation deeply all the space of a moment, and finally, I put the love of my life out of his misery and answered, “Yes.”

Part 10

Posted on Tuesday, 27 July 2004

There was, once again, another little performance in the restaurant on our part; but no one seemed to notice because they were all too busy clapping and cheering.

On the way home, I thought about the entire duration of my relationship with Will: all that had happened - the errors we made, the lessons we learned, the good times we had had, how much I had grown and matured, and most importantly how well we’d come to know and understand each other. It was then I realized one thing remained to be answered.

"What on earth possessed you to ring me that first time?"

At that, he couldn't stop laughing. "I was hoping you’d forgotten about that."

"Well that's all the more reason for answering!"

"It was. Um. Well, it was Charles."

"What?"

"He was sick of me deliberating about you so he got your number off Jane and dialed your number before I had any chance to think about it. He shoved the phone at me and unfortunately - or maybe fortunately - you answered, so anything I said on that phone call was completely off the top of my head." He chuckled. "I must have sounded like a complete loser. And, needless to say, my dear friend was laughing so much he was crying by the time I hung up."

"I can just imagine."

"After that, I was feeling pretty smug because I’d managed to secure a date from you and Charles was feeling even smugger than me because he had more or less brought it about."

"Typical."

The announcement to our respective families was made the next day, and both were overjoyed. Mum's first comment was, "Wait! I have the bridal magazines still around here somewhere!" and she rushed off leaving the rest of us staring after her, but Dad just smiled and gave us a heartfelt congratulations. I spoke to Will's parents on the phone that night. They too were seemingly very happy for us and cheerfully demanded to meet me as soon as may be.

I went for my interview as nervous as anyone in my situation would be. Within half an hour, it was over.

A week later I was rung and told I had missed out on the job, the main reason being my lack of experience as opposed to that person who had secured the position. I was more disappointed than I cared to let on, and I felt I had let down Will after he had tried so hard to help me. However, following a bit of looking around I finally managed to obtain employment in Sydney in a slightly smaller group than AUCO, but more prominent than Rydell. Will was ecstatic when I'd told him - I hadn't indicated that I'd been looking for another job so I could be with him in Sydney.

The question soon arose as to where we would have the wedding. It didn't take too much for me to agree to have it at Will's childhood home in England – the very idea of having it there appealed to me immensely. So only my family flew over for a relatively small affair at the Darcy's prestigious estate, and we had organized a "We Got Married" party to be thrown soon after getting home from the honeymoon. Two weeks later, we made the big move to Sydney.

Dreamily dancing around the living room, clicking my fingers to the tune of My Girl on my discman, I got the scare of my life when someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind. Shrieking, I dropped one of my more major sources for happiness, turning to see Will standing there and grinning evilly.

"Dammit, William! That was my discman!"

"I’ll buy you a new one."

"But… but it was like my baby."

"Well, in five months you can have a new one of those, too," he reminded me.

The “Realisations” Soundtrack listing. (Songs featured in this story, or just songs that are good to listen to while reading)

1. Kiss Me – Sixpence None The Richer

2. Forever And For Always – Shania Twain

3. Pour Some Sugar On Me – Def Leppard

4. Someone Like You – Van Morrison

5. Victory – Bond

6. Here With Me – Dido

7. My Girl – The Temptations

8. Have I Told You Lately – Van Morrison

9. That Word (L.O.V.E.) – The Rockmelons

10. The Grease Megamix – John Travolta & Olivia Newton-John

11. How Do I Live – Trisha Yearwood

12. Chapel Of Love – The Dixie Cups