Ten Days with Mr Darcy (on hold)

Chapter twenty-eight - Opportunity knocks

The front door banged. Jess clapped the flour from her hands as Beatrice came into the kitchen. She sniffed as she undid the buttons of her coat. "Something smells good, and I'm starving."

"I made a batch of those biscuits you like. How was rehearsal?"

Bea tugged the pink fluffy jumper over her head. Her red spring-shaped curls rebounded from their temporary confinement. "Cold. I think the heating boiler is not long for this world and may soon shuffle off its copper coil. Remind me to wear more layers tomorrow." She picked a few loose strands of magenta mohair off her t-shirt. "Hey, do you like my new top?"

"Not particularly. Where did you get it from?"

"The Gareth Jones Fan Forum. They were selling these cool shirts. As soon as I saw it I had to grab one."

The image filling the front of the t-shirt was Gareth, standing by the martian window, half-naked, holding a cup. The caption beneath read: My favourite coffee is tall, blonde and sexy. Jess shook her head. "That's embarrassing."

"It's lucky I didn't buy another for you then, isn't it?" Bea dropped into her favourite chair. "So how did your meeting with Ron go? Another pointless audition?"

Jessica understood Bea's scepticism. Her agent was an old friend of her uncle's, and she'd always assumed he'd taken her onto his books as a favour. Every so often he would put her forward for one or two minor parts to show he hadn't forgotten her. Yet, she'd never been a high priority for him, and some of the work he'd sent her way was worse than useless.

But this time things were different.

"I have an appointment tomorrow to see someone about a part in a drama. It's a speculative project, but they're trying to sell it to one of the major TV companies. If this thing comes off, you could be watching me on three consecutive Sunday evenings."

"TV? Now we're talking. What part is it this time? Murder victim number three?"

"No, the main female character. It's a big deal. The biggest opportunity I think I've ever had."

Bea grinned, rubbing her hands together. "Finally! This could be the break you've been waiting for."

Jess scraped some of the spare dough from around the edge of the bowl and rolled it into a ball. "Don't go writing my BAFTA acceptance speech yet. I haven't booked the job, it's only an audition."

"You always said you preferred the theatre."

"I do, but then I never expected to be up for something like this. It's an incredible opportunity."

"At least Ron put you forward for something decent, for once."

The oven timer beeped, and Jess pulled out the last batch of golden brown shortbreads. She lifted them to lay on the cooling rack. "He didn't. They asked for me. By name."

Beatrice sat up, her attention now fully engaged. "Do you think they saw that YouTube video of you kissing deadbeat Darcy in Derbyshire? I knew something good had to come of that."

Jessica laughed. "No, no, they're probably looking for a particular type. Someone my age, my height, my hair colour. They'll have a specific look in mind for the character and probably found my head-shot in the middle of a large pile somewhere."

"So what's the story?"

"Wealthy father becomes estranged from his only son because he married someone the father doesn't approve of. She's an average girl from a working-class background and the rich businessman doesn't think she's good enough for his son. When he discovers he might be dying, and that they're having his grandchild, he realises that he has to reconcile with them while he can. The twist at the end is—"