Serenity

I Play Dead

The words erupted off the page. They spoke to her like no one had ever done—so much so that tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. Then, she glanced up at Elizabeth’s nervous eyes, which looked like she was about to burst, awaiting a reaction. 

‘’Oh, it is wonderful!’’ Rose placed the paper on the sideboard table, lifted her right hand to her mouth and let out the excitement in the form of a little squeal. 

‘’Is it?’’ Elizabeth asked, uncertainty etched in her voice across her face and the worrisome glance emitted towards Rose.

‘’Would I lie to you?’’ A frown buried between Rose’s brows. “I shall never do such a thing. When I say something, please trust it.”

‘’But it is a love story. I fear that it cannot be taken seriously when I have truly never been, well, in love.’’

‘’Well, you have done a marvellous job of depicting it.’’ Rose offered; a feeling that resembled a butterfly floating about in her stomach appeared, and she breathed it out, focusing upon her sister and not the tremendous rush of emotions that had caused her to only think of Jack, what had transpired between them and how her body ached in new regions.

‘’How about the happy ending? I do fear that it is not quite the tragic Shakespeare.’’

‘’But your Mr. Darcy and Miss. Bennet get their happy ending, do they not?’’

‘’Yes, they do, but still...’’ 

At that moment, Ruth entered the parlour, flanked by a maid carrying a tea service, and she ceased when she caught her two daughters engrossed in the manuscript papers. She was adorned in an olive and cream day dress, yet her eyes were tired, her hair not as fixed as usual. The usually poised woman seemed to not have as much about her as usual, as though half of her wits had been left elsewhere. 

‘’Forgive me, I was about to take tea. Would you join me?’’ Ruth went forward anyway, sitting in a large wingback chair facing the window. The maid dropped the steaming tea service beside her on a coffee table before curtseying and leaving the room. 

‘’It is quite alright. Elizabeth and I were just discussing…’’ Rose motioned for Elizabeth to go forth; perhaps this would be a time to mention any future developments to their mother whilst she was in both of their presence.

‘’Rose and I were just discussing my play.’’ Elizabeth began, her voice felt lost in the large sitting room.

‘’We shall not be conversing of such matters at all.’’ Ruth leant forward, touching the heat of the teapot before resting backwards in her chair, glancing out of the window onto the lawns, raising the tips of her fingers towards her temple.

‘’But I have made a great start; the publisher has agreed--’’ 

‘’Elizabeth, silence!’’ Ruth's voice swirled about the room.

Elizabeth closed her mouth but immediately glanced at Rose, defenceless. This was how she had been met for weeks while trying to speak to her mother.

Rose, filled with newfound confidence, especially after what had transpired between herself and Jack, stepped forth and raised her chin to her sitting mother.

‘’Well, if you do not listen to her, then listen to me.” Rose waited for her mother's attention, and when a sharp gaze met her own, she continued, satisfied. “I am to support Elizabeth in her endeavour, and the finished manuscript is wonderful. She will publish the play no matter what you or anyone else shall think.’’