Dear Diary,If ever there were a day that promised the coming of spring, then today was it. On venturing out one could sense the joy and growth all around in the sun's warmth. I did not fully appreciate it until later in the day. This morning my mind was only upon the departure of the Countess. How strange that only a few days before I had bemoaned her visit and yet now I am sorry to see her go. Only you and I, however, know the true reason for my sorrow.The time came swift and there was no chance to be alone with Emmanuel. We all gathered on the steps to wave them off after a great deal of further French kissing. Just as the party were about to leave Mother gasped, remembering Mrs Crutchlow had packed a picnic for their journey. I said I would go fetch it and dashed in as I heard my mother crying out to them,"Wait!" I found the basket in the scullery and picked it up and headed back into the hallway. I was crossing to the front door when Emmanuel burst in. He hurried up to me and taking my arm pulled me into the Library. He took the basket from me, placed it quickly upon a table and turning took my face in both his hands and kissed me. How warm his lips. How soft his kiss. How perfect the moment. He pulled back and looked at me. "Au revoir" he whispered then flashed that smile, grabbed the basket and was gone. Dazed, I followed him out and stood with the rest of the family to wave. I watched until I could see them no more and turned to find I stood alone on the steps. I did not go in. Instead I walked. I had no thoughts as to where I was going. I simply walked. I do not recall my route as I think back now but found myself, after a time, by the old hawthorn tree that I used to climb as a boy. It was a beautiful day and so I traced my childhood steps and climbed to my perch at the top. It was here that I fully appreciated the beauty of the day. I am not certain what I was feeling in my heart but I believe it was a kind of joy. He had whispered "Au revoir", but I know I will never see him again. Would that I could end this day's entry upon that poignant note, but sadly no. Not having the agility or slenderness of my youth it transpired that, in my descent, I received a large thorn to the left buttock which broke off and remained partly embedded in my fundament. Thus, this evening I have had to impose upon Ned the task of retrieving the source of my obvious discomfort at dinner. I cannot lie and say that I have not considered the moment when Ned and my buttocks became acquainted. Sadly, I did not imagine it thus.
Dear Diary,I have been thwarted throughout the day in my endeavours to rendezvous with Emmanuel and thus have had to gaze upon him from afar. The congregation at Chapel had swelled this morning in the knowledge that a French Countess would be in attendance. Emmanuel was seated a few pews behind me and I could feel his gaze upon the back of my head. The Pastor was effusive in his sermon and appeared to deliver it solely to the Countess who beamed throughout. (I know not how she manages it.) Her warbling soprano voice soared above everyone else's during the hymns but it could have been that everyone else was pausing to listen. We were almost late for lunch due to the large number of people wishing to pay their respects after the service. I was just about to prise her hand from the Pastor's who had clung to it for far longer than necessary, when he finally released it and bowed low. As we finally left she turned to face the waving congregation and trilled; "Ah weesh 'appenis for you all!" She loved all the attention and it only served to widen her smile.Emmanuel was occupied in the afternoon, packing and preparing for their departure tomorrow. This evening Mrs Crutchlow, in honour of our guests, prepared a typical French meal. It was quite splendid. I enjoyed the fish soup but the chicken was covered with a French cheese sauce. I ate what I could scrape clear of it. The dessert was delicious. Later, Mrs Crutchlow stopped me in the hallway and asked "Well, Mr Austen, I wonder what you thought of the pancakes?""Crepes" I corrected, but before I could tell her what I thought she stormed off in a huff. Women! I just don't understand them.
Dear Diary,I eschewed breakfast and went straight to the stables where I knew Emmanuel was engaged in grooming. He did not notice me enter as he was stroking the flank of a particularly magnificent stallion but the beast did and turned to look at me. He finally followed its gaze and turned to face me. He was without a shirt and stood there in boots and breeches with his braces bridging his glistening shoulders. He flashed that smile... and I waved. I waved?! I do not know what possessed me. He was standing not twelve feet in front of me and like the nincompoop that I am, I waved! There followed a moments uncomfortable silence then I took a step forward and was just about to speak when Ned came in to say that Father was looking for me. I walked to the door and before I exited, glanced back. He was still smiling.Father and I thought that an excursion to the ruins of Nethernook Castle would entertain our guests, though the weather was not being kind. We took two carriages. I rode with my Mother, Fanny and the Countess and Father rode with Jane and two of the Countess' ladies in waiting. I was pleased to see that Emmanuel and two other male escorts rode behind us. Nethernook Castle is in a beautiful setting and would have been a majestic sight in its day. Thankfully, there are still many covered passageways and corridors to explore on a wet day though much of the interior is now open to the sky. The party dispersed to explore. I hung back and soon found myself alone. I resolved to seek out Emmanuel and set off back to where we had left the coaches but as I turned a corner I bumped straight into him coming the other way. We both gasped then laughed in recognition. Without hesitation, I grasped his arm and said "Come Emmanuel, let me show you the Fingering Hole." I led him down a dark and twisting staircase and into a small, damp chamber with little light. I explained that this was where the prisoners had been kept. In one wall there was a small hole where water trickled in from outside and I told him it was here that the prisoners quenched their thirst, thrusting their fingers in and out to get what little moisture they could. I stuck my finger in and he looked at me in bemusement and I realised he did not understand a word I was saying. I took his hand and carefully, extending a finger, pushed it into the hole, smiling and nodding all the while. He pulled it out and I released my grip. He stood facing me in that shadowy place and then smiled too and I swear the room glowed. He reached out and took my hand again and I gazed into his face and then noticed the largest spider I had ever seen crawling over his hair. As my gaze went up to it I heard a scream, like that of a frightened girl, and bedlam ensued. The room was suddenly filled with a horrendous flapping sound and all about us, tumbling and wheeling, were dark shapes. I heard the scream again and realised it was my own and now it was joined by Emmanuel's scream too. We clung to each other with one arm while flailing with the other at the creatures swooping around us. I gathered my senses and grasping him tightly led him to the exit and we tumbled up the stairs, all the while amidst the throng of wing-ed beasts. We burst out into the open and fell to the floor. We, briefly, lay there gasping on the wet ground before getting to our feet. It suddenly began to rain harder and the others emerged hurrying back to the coaches. No one had any inclination of what had just occurred. He squeezed my shoulder and hurried off to join the others and I followed behind.I remember little of the rest of the day. My head has but one abiding memory, that it plays over and over again; the moment that he took my hand.
Dear Diary,I confess I might be warming to our foreign occupiers. On a gentle stroll about the woods this afternoon the Countess regaled me with tales about "Gay Paree". I must concede it does sound most inviting and a place I could, very well, feel at home in. Furthermore, I know not whether it was the brightness of her smile that has blinded me to all around, since her arrival, but for the first time today I became aware of the handsome stature of a number of her male escorts. I was led to believe that the gentlemen of France exude a scent described as a mix of garlic and urine but I have to say, on standing downwind of a good few fellows today, I detect no such aroma, On the contrary, the bouquet was most enticing. One delightful fellow, by the name of Emmanuel, who wears his breeches very well, has glanced in my direction a number of times. His smile outshines the Countess'. I shall attempt to contrive an impromptu encounter.
Cher Journal Intime,Je souris toujours mais la Contesse est la reine des sourires. Assez!I have never seen a woman smile so much. It is not natural. She finds delight in all she surveys. I can only surmise that it is all some affectation or life in France is extremely dull. Much of the talk at breakfast was of the fate of Nicholas de Lacy Brown, an educated man, on his way up the ladder of life but whose lack of thought, before speaking, sent him skidding down a snake. The Countess beamed throughout the conversation and then, turning attention back to herself, asked;"Mon cher Wayne, wat ees eet you want most from life?" It was far too deep a question to ponder at such an early hour, and I found myself stuttering, with my fork midway to my mouth."Speaking for myself, all ah seek from life ees 'appenis!" she continued.As I looked around at all the other wavering forks how I wished I had been able to say that too.
Dear Diary,I fear I spoke too soon. I had but a few hours to enjoy my home alone with my family before we were invaded by France. Forgive me if I appear somewhat dramatic but it is the truth. This afternoon three large coaches drew up the drive bringing Countess Cornelia Du Plessis and her entourage. I was aware she was to visit but Mother had been coy as to the actual date of arrival and I was taken completely unawares. I have scarcely had to time to rest my facial muscles from forced smiling for Mrs Norris. I doubt I shall survive the next four days.The Countess swept in, declaring " Ah am so 'appee to be 'ere wiz you". It seemed the cheek kissing would never end and then she waved in gifts of French cheese! Heavens! These Continentals take the offensive early!
Dear Diary,Mrs Norris is gone, for now. She left this afternoon but not before a little drama. After lunch she was taking a turn around the garden with myself and my sister Jane, who was telling her about the new novel she was writing, . I was not particularly paying that much attention to the conversation but I believe she said it is called Enema. Suddenly, Mrs Norris noticed that the 'rodent' was no longer waddling behind us. She cried out "Winky! Winky darling! Come to Mama!" but nothing emerged from the shrubbery. I suspect even the slugs shrank back. I made some attempt to look concerned but the stupid creature is always getting lost and, sadly, always found. When an hour had passed and there was still no sign of the beast, despite a well manned search of the house and grounds, I began to think we might never suffer her Winky again. I encountered Ned as I returned from the orchard."Oh Mr Austen, Mrs Norris is in a fair terrible state, lying 'prostate' on the 'chaise longoo'. Your Father has had an idea though. He has released his Todger. He believes it will follow little Winky's scent."We walked back to the main entrance together and were just approaching the steps when there came an ear piercing shriek, and Mrs Norris charged out. She was pointing, wildly, in the direction of the drive. Ned and I turned to where she was indicating and there, padding up the drive was Todger with something small, hanging limply from his mouth. There was a dull thud and I turned to find Ned and Mrs Norris were no longer standing where they had been only a moment before. I felt a hand grasp my ankle and I looked down to find Ned buried beneath the unconscious woman. Fortunately, Father appeared at that moment and we wrested Ned from beneath the suffocating mass of Mrs Norris's breasts. Winky, was placed unharmed at Father's feet and much attention was paid to his Todger, which was patted and squeezed and, yes, even Mrs Norris placed a hand upon it in thanks for the safe return of her 'precious baby' before mounting the carriage to return home.I am glad we have the Grange to ourselves again.
