is in love with her, she’s surprised when he appears at the door—’
‘Yes, I know the story,’ cut in Jazz.
Harry paused.
‘Right. Off you go then.’ He crossed his arms, leaned back and scrutinised her properly for the first time. Jazz preferred it when he was ignoring her.
She took a deep breath, turned her back on him as rudely as she could and walked to the end of the room, telling herself this would all be over in ten minutes and then she could buy herself a chocolate bar the size of a house. With her back still to the desk, she closed her eyes for a second and imagined herself in an Empire-style dress. Unconsciously, her shoulders dropped and her chin lifted. She turned round slowly, walked back to the middle of the room, and with as much confidence as she could muster, she sat herself down with one swift movement that managed to make her look inches taller.
Matt Jenkins rushed into the room - quite an alarming sight with his flat feet. Lizzy was all astonishment.
Matt Jenkins paced the room, the toggles of his anorak napping wildly and his elbow jerking out at right angles from his body due to an unfortunate nervous tic. Lizzy sat stiffly on the chair, staring in quiet bewilderment at him. Was this for real?
Matt Jenkins paced back and forth, toggle in mouth, stopped, read his script, twitched and then eventually asked her to allow him to tell her how much he admired her and loved her. Then he insulted her family and took the toggle out of his mouth. Lizzy’s dark eyes widened as she tried to hide her mortification. If she’d have had scissors on her, she’d have cut off his toggle and fed it to him. Matt Jenkins insulted her personally, sneezed and apologised. Lizzy looked horrified as he wiped his nose on his anorak sleeve. Matt Jenkins’ neck went rigid as he told her he loved her profoundly, asked her to put him out of his misery and consent to be his wife, picked his ear and looked at it.
Lizzy’s face was utter disbelief.
Slowly and stonily she collected herself and answered Matt Jenkins, explaining that she had done nothing to excite these feelings and could not accept them. Once or twice, her voice failed her as the humiliation of the situation overcame her.
Matt Jenkins nodded firmly, twitched, jerked his head disconcertingly, then turned two pages over at once. He said, ‘whoops,’ wiped his sweaty brow and then demanded to know why he had got such a rude answer.
Lizzy, her voice growing in strength with her confidence and anger, assured him quietly but firmly that there were two reasons. One, he had been instrumental in breaking the heart of a much-beloved sister
and two, he had ruined the life of a certain Mr Wickham.
Matt Jenkins started shifting his weight from left foot to right and noted that she took a great interest in that man. He peered closer at his script, took a deep breath and read that perhaps he should have pretended not to have been in any doubt about proposing to someone whose family’s position was so much further below his own. His left shoulder hunched suddenly to his ear in a spasmodic twitch of tension. Then in a split second, his right elbow shot out to his side and back again.
Lizzy fixed him with a steely eye and clenched her teeth, sharpening her cheekbones even more. She explained clearly, and with a quiet force, that far from preventing her from accepting his hand, that had only made it easier for her to care less about hurting him. In a voice like iron wrapped in velvet, she used this perfect opportunity to vent her hurt feelings and told him that from the very first time she had met him she had found him unpleasant. He was the last man she could ever want to marry. Her voice broke and her eyes shone with injured pride as she went on to tell him he was arrogant, rude and self-satisfied, and that even if he had acted in a more gentlemanly-like manner, her answer would have always been the same.
Relieved beyond belief that they had reached the end,