He came in to the room; Jane was sitting on the desk writing “Hello Jane” he said. She did not reply he came over and stood beside her and glanced down at what she was writing “Mr Bennett had just sat down to write a letter to his tailor.” He read. So Jane was been her usual self her creative abilities still amazed him after all these years and so many successful books in print Jane simply refused to stop writing.

She had in the course of her writing made him a very wealth man, it was not that he minded the money her creative abilities brought in he just wished she would behave in a more human way but Jane had a mind of her own and she always followed her own program. There was a relationship of very few words it was just the way it was.

There acquaintance went back many years when she had first come into his life he had been a young man and in all there years together she had seldom acknowledged his existence at times he believed that she was totally unaware of his presence.

He could live with that he knew it was her way. He like so many of her fans grew to know her more closely through her writing.

It pleased him that before the world at large read her work he would long know the new plot to the story for she was kind enough to allow him to be the first to read her creations.
They had become like an old couple he knew her was and had learned to appreciate what she was doing for few people had ever had a relationship with her and even fewer had grown to understand her as he did.

Indeed when people spoke of Jane Austen and her work when the expounded upon her stories he would smile knowingly. For he knew whilst he was out in society meeting with friends and acquaintances Jane would be busy writing she was a strange old duck in that respect she enjoyed been left alone to get on with what ever she was doing.

Jane had no time for frivolities she was a slave to work she was a hard task master she never allowed herself time to stand back and view her creations with delight as so many others did, no that was not Jane’s nature.

It worried him that young people did not read as much as they used to it seemed that younger people would much rather be out and about then reading one of Jane’s wonderful books. It worried him.

Harold of course loved Jane deeply he had from the first day of there acquaintance, he should have known even then that she was one of those gifted creatures who devoted herself fully to her first love writing.

He glanced down once more and read “Elizabeth Bennett had made one of those rare discoveries which a woman of her years is bound to come to when ones looks and youth begin to fade.” It amused him to find that Jane still found so much pleasure in returning to the characters of Pride and prejudice.

He like so many others who were devoted to her had discovered the Bennett’s to be worthy subjects of Jane’s attention. Remarkably in her later writing she had returned to one of the lest likeable characters a person of some small worth Mr Collins for Mr Collins she had a great empathy of late and had made him the hero of some remarkable adventures.

Further more it gave Harold a certain amount of pleasure to note that Jane was continually adding to her database of events with which to complete her latest story for in this version Mr and Mrs Bennett were the glad receivers of news that they had become grand Papa and grand Mama to a set of twins by Mary and her fine young husband.

It delighted Harold to know that he could go out for a few hours and leave Jane to her
own devises returning he knew for a certainty there would be at least another full chapter of her latest creation, and yes he knew she would automatically title this latest literary offering Child no 11 he would however before taking the manuscript to her publisher think of a more suitable title.

The kettle finished boiling he poured the boiling water into the tea pot and let it draw while he busied himself with the setting of the cups for tea. Once he had made the tea he returned to the desk and watched her as she progressed.

Jane was one of those rare creatures that never thought of herself or her well been it was not how she was made for her to create was a basic function of her existence... Her needs were few she needed very little to sustain her.

This of course was not unusual for one of her age for she was quite advanced in years, her daily out put had not diminished for it seemed with every new chapter and book her ability to write faster grew.

Looking down he noticed that she had just finished the last chapter he read the last line “Mrs Bennett bounced the child on her knee and in a moment of reflection said to her husband “my dear Mr Bennett we should be well pleased with ourselves.

For we have managed to marry off all our daughter and to some very
well connected families.” To which Mr Bennett replied “Indeed my dear Lizzie we have done exceedingly
well.”
Harold switched of the screen and closed his eyes in the background he could hear the computer quietly changing pace as it begun to write another novel. As a young man he had designed and programmed the computer to index and database all of Jane Austen’s works which would then in a endless repetitive cycle write stories which he would submit as his own work to the Romance writes guild which in due course would be published under his non-deplume such was the life of romance writers in the 22nd century.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.03.2010

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