Aurelia barely had time to process the fact that Julia was there, again, and that the characters hadn’t disappeared when she’d arrived, again. Meanwhile Biscuit, who she’d left looking comatose on his back in front of a fan in the living room, suddenly came trotting onto the mezzanine through the open door to the flat, tail wagging in happiness at discovering where the action was taking place that evening.
“I’m not leaving,” Julia said, crossing her arms. “You lied to me before. You said I was dreaming and people are here—again—in weird clothes, in the middle of the night.”
“Weird?How dare you! Insult upon insult, and now from this poppet wearing nothing but her underthings!” cried Blanche, eyeing Julia’s tank top and shorts.
Aurelia turned back to the women, feeling as though she were being tossed back and forth like a cricket ball.
“Isthatthe fashion, then, Aurelia?” Kitty asked, pointing at Julia. “I thought you said your dress was in fashion, but hers is a much different style of attire, is it not?”
Julia snorted with laughter.
“What? This is in fashion—I bought it a few months ago,” Aurelia told Julia defensively, forgetting for a moment the predicament she was in.
“In fashion for old people, maybe.”
“Oldpeople? Really?” Aurelia couldn’t help herself.
“Disrespectful,” muttered Mrs. Jamieson as she shook her head.
“Where are the others?” Julia asked. “Where’s Jane Rochester?”
“Do not use that woman’s name in my presence,” Blanche demanded, narrowing her eyes at Julia in warning.
“Don’t you like her? She seemed nice enough,” Julia said with a shrug.
“Nice enough?That little governess stole my fiancé, Mr. Rochester.”
“Oh,” Julia said, drawing out the word. “Are you supposed to be that Blanche Ingram lady? Are you all dressing up like characters?”
“Dressing up? You’re one to talk. What on earth are you wearing? Your mother should be ashamed, letting you out of the house like that,” Mrs. Jamieson hissed.
Julia gave her the side eye, then looked around at the women, taking in their angry postures and flushed cheeks before saying, “Your book club is getting a bit worked up tonight.”
“Yes, tempers are flaring a little,” Aurelia said helplessly.
“I hardly need lessons in manners from you two,” Blanche said, looking them up and down. “Is this the shopkeeper’s little daughter?”
“I’m herniece,” Julia said fiercely. “And anyway, Blanche was never Mr. Rochester’s fiancée. If you’re going to pretend to be her, then you ought to at least read the book.”
Blanche looked as though she were going to slap Julia, and Aurelia pulled her back protectively. For a moment she’d forgotten that there was no real risk of harm since Blanche would turn into mist if she tried touching her.
“Let’s just have a timeout here, okay?” Aurelia told everyone before pushing Julia into the back corner of the shop near the staircase. “Look, I’ll come up in a minute,” she whispered to her. “I just need to get them sorted.”
“You lied to me,” Julia said again, staring daggers at her.
“I know, but I’ll explain everything later.”
Though, of course, Aurelia couldn’t think of how she was going to explain anything, like what was happening or why she’d lied to Julia.
Seeing Aurelia and Julia so near to him, Biscuit padded down the stairs. He pawed at their legs, wanting their attention.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Julia said stubbornly.
There was a ‘tsk’ sound from Mrs. Jamieson at this. The women were clearly listening in.
“If she does not wish to leave, we would be only too happy to do so,” Mrs. Jamieson called out.
Aurelia tried to ignore them and focused on Julia.
