Mrs Bennet and the Body in the Library

By Susannah Donim

From playing a part in a play, Mike has become a full-time forty-year-old woman and has to play the part in real life.

Chapter Nine – Becoming Auntie Michelle

“Couldn’t you find me any trousers?” I grumbled as Holly drove us away from Transformations.

“Sorry,” she said, “Mum doesn’t own many pairs and I know she’d miss any I borrowed.”

The frightful red floral dress had made another appearance, but fortunately there were alternatives. I chose a short-sleeved black top (although it was a little too low-cut for my liking) and a matching calf-length skirt with a red rose pattern. I thought it looked quite smart, but Holly told me it was out of fashion. I wondered how women made such judgements.

Because of what I had overheard outside my dressing room after the matinee performance of our show, I knew that Holly’s parents disapproved of her dressing me up. So she had waited till they were out before raiding her mother’s wardrobe. She was careful only to take older things that had made their way into the dark corners at the far ends of the rail. She hoped that Susan would have forgotten about everything she had taken.

The big problem was shoes. I didn’t have large feet but they were much bigger than either Holly’s or Susan’s. Ingrid came to the rescue again. It was a common problem for her clients, she had said, so she kept a good supply. I was now the proud possessor of half a dozen pairs of ladies’ shoes in my size. The ones I was wearing now were black two-inch kitten heels (apparently). Holly wanted me to get used to them and threatened to introduce me to four-inchers in due course.

I pulled down the passenger seat sunblind and opened the little mirror on the back to examine my face again. Vera knew her business. My makeup was excellent: a little eyeshadow, a touch of mascara, a dab of rouge to highlight my cheekbones, and lipstick that was bright but not glaring. I still looked like a middle-aged woman, but quite possibly late thirties, at least in in a good light.

“I did think of nicking some of Mum’s cosmetics for you, but she’s quite careful with her makeup, so I’m glad Vera was able to supply you. We should have asked them for some cheap jewellery too.”

“I’m sure Sheila and Esther will provide all I need,” I said, “and I’m not getting my ears pierced, thank you.”

“I never suggested…”

“No, but you were going to, weren’t you?”

She didn’t deny it.

* * *

We weren’t due at Hadleigh House until Friday afternoon, so I had to spend Wednesday evening and all day Thursday as Michelle. We had originally intended to go back to Holly’s flat near the University, but we now had my parents’ house all to ourselves. It was bigger and much more comfortable, but it was Keith’s extensive wine cellar that swung it. If I had to be a middle-aged woman, at least I could be a drunk middle-aged woman. That accounted for Wednesday night.

I wasn’t at all keen on my girlfriend seeing me in bra and knickers with all my new surplus flesh spilling out, so at bedtime I suggested she might prefer to sleep in the guest room. She was having none of it.

“We said in our application form that we wanted to share a bedroom at Hadleigh House, but we don’t know what the sleeping arrangements will be. This may be our last chance for a while. Come on, Michelle, get naked!”

But she wasn’t prepared for the sight of me stripped off.

“My God, that’s so sexy!” she squealed.

“Oh come on! You can’t possibly be finding this attractive!” I said, indicating my lumpy, frumpy figure.

“Oh yes I do!” she said. “Don’t ask me to explain it, just be grateful!”

She flung herself at me, silencing my objections with kisses. I felt my bra being undone behind me. While I was struggling to keep it in position, Holly was pulling my tights down. I soon felt my panties joining them around my ankles. Then she stopped suddenly, gaping at the realistic female groin area.

“Wh – what’s – where’s your…?” she stammered.

“I thought that might slow you down a little,” I said. “But I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I thought this was what you wanted?”

“What! Of course not! I never meant for you to be…”

“Castrated? Well, what did you think Transformations would do?”

“I – I – I…!”

She looked horrified. I realised I might have gone too far.

“Relax. It might not be quite as bad as you think.”

I explained about the little zipper.

“You bastard! I thought I’d made you…”

“Well, you’ve certainly made me feel emasculated lately, so maybe I deserved a moment of payback.” I lay back on the bed and spread my legs. “Now, my liberation is more easily accomplished from your vantage point…”

“I’ve gone right off it now,” she grumbled. “As far as I’m concerned, you can stay locked up in your chastity knickers!”

“OK, suit yourself. I’m probably too tired and drunk anyway.”

I pulled back the covers and got into bed properly.

“Oh no, you don’t!” she yelled, turning on a sixpence. “I demand satisfaction!”

With a dexterity borne of frenzy and determination, Holly soon mastered both the tiny zip and the release of my manly equipment. It was embarrassing and uncomfortable, but not actually painful.

My new bulk made it easier for us both if Holly went on top. That wasn’t unfamiliar, although she claimed that the sensation of my pseudo-breasts rubbing against her real ones was new.

“I love your boobies, Michelle!” she said, with a grin.

“Is that supposed to enhance my ardour, or kill it stone dead?”

She stopped doing… what she was doing… and gave me a puzzled look.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Complimenting a man on his huge breasts, which he never wanted in the first place, is hardly the way to make him more aroused, is it?”

“I suppose not, sorry. I guess I’ve been taking this game a little too far, haven’t I?”

“You think?”

“Look, if you really can’t cope with being Mrs Bennet for the next six weeks, I’ll understand,” she said. “I don’t want you to end up hating me…”

She actually seemed upset. I didn’t think she was acting this time. I sighed.

“Well… since we’ve come this far, and I need the money…” I began.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She started smothering me in kisses. I pushed her away to free my mouth for a moment.

“But if you could dial down the teasing, that would be great,” I said. “Remember I only have a fragile male ego…”

“As if!” she laughed. “You’re the toughest guy I know…”

She happily resumed… what she had been doing.

That was enough air-clearing, at least for the moment. I concentrated on the job in hand, and she duly received the satisfaction she had been craving… twice. (I was pretty satisfied too.)

* * *

We slept in till nearly half-past ten on Thursday morning. None of my own clothes came close to fitting me now, not even my dressing gown, but Holly produced an old, rather drab, cotton nightie of her mother’s and a pair of nearly matching panties. So I grudgingly put them on before pottering downstairs to make coffee and begin breakfast.

My parents had left bread, milk and eggs, and there were some bacon and sausages that were only just past their ‘Use By’ dates.
Tantalising odours and sizzling sounds roused my beloved from her slumbers and she soon joined me.

“You look weird without your wig,” she said when she saw me. “Michelle’s wrinkled face and voluptuous body, but with Mike’s hair.”

“I’m not going to wear that thing anytime I don’t have to. It’s hot and uncomfortable.”

“You’ll have to wear it almost all the time at Hadleigh House. You’ll only be able to take it off in the privacy of our bedroom – assuming we have any privacy at all, that is.”

That was a depressing thought. Holly sat down at the breakfast table and I started dishing up.

“That was great last night,” she said, through a mouthful of bangers and scrambled eggs. I sensed she was looking for confirmation. I nodded. “It’s good to know that Mike is still fully functional,” she added, “even if he’s buried somewhere inside Michelle.”

“I’m relieved myself,” I agreed. “You were a little tiger in bed. I hope it was just the novelty. I would hate to think you prefer Michelle to Mike.”

“I can’t see it makes any difference,” she said airily. “They’re both you. Anyway with your zip open and your… landing gear down, you’re sort of half and half, aren’t you?”

It certainly made a difference to me, as I thought I’d made clear the night before, but I didn’t want to begin the day with an argument. I started loading the dishwasher with the breakfast things.

“Listen, I know you’re not really comfortable doing all this,” she said, getting serious for once, “but you’re only going to be Michelle for six weeks. Then you’ll be back to being Mike and you need never wear women’s clothes again.” She paused. “Unless you want to, of course,” she added with a grin.

“And your point is?”

“You might as well try and enjoy it. It will be a whole new experience; one you’ll never have again. They say everyone has both a masculine and feminine side, so let Michelle take over for a while. See where it takes you. It might be fun.”

“But what if she doesn’t want to let go afterwards?”

She snorted scornfully. Either she didn’t feel that remark was worthy of an answer, or she couldn’t think of one.

* * *

With our breakfast over and tidied away I went up to have a close shave and a shower. Maybe my various prostheses would fall off after vigorous rubbing with shower gel and water? I didn’t hold out much hope.

I stood, naked, at the bathroom mirror, except Mike wasn’t naked. All his private parts were well covered by Transformations’ best plastic. But Michelle was naked all right. When I saw her bountiful breasts and big round shiny bottom again, I could feel my manhood rising, desperate to assert itself.

This was ridiculous. I turned the shower to ‘cold’ and jumped in.

* * *

“What shall we do today?” Holly asked, when I got back into the bedroom, wrapped in towels.

“There’s not much we can do with me like this, is there?”

“Well, you don’t have much to wear, and what you do have is old hat. So why don’t we go shopping?”

“Absolutely not! No chance! I’m still a man under this lot. I’m not wandering around women’s clothes shops, stripping down to my underwear, trying things on… Not for all the tea in China.”

She sighed. “All right, but we do have to go out. You need to get used to being Michelle in public. Also we should practise putting Mike away again. Lie down and let me zip you up.”

Although I was used to ‘intimate handling’ by my girlfriend (obvs), this particular process was different. We both learned something from the experience. I learned that Holly was probably wise not to consider a career in nursing, and she learned just how loudly a man can scream if you are too rough with his bollocks. It was at that point I remembered that Vera had applied ice to the relevant area before attempting the delicate manipulation. I wouldn’t forget next time.

I still couldn’t fasten my bra behind my back without Holly’s help. While I was trying to put on my underwear, and she was watching spellbound, her mobile chimed. She accepted the call, leaving me to struggle with my bra. She didn’t put the thing on ‘Speaker’, so I heard only her half of the conversation.

“Oh, hi, how are you?” … “Yes, we’re good.” … “Yes, it all went very well. You should see her. It’s amazing!” … “That’s a great idea! Will the others be there?” … “The Dog and Duck in Hadleigh. We’ll find it. I guess it’ll be our local for the next six weeks, won’t it?” … “Twelve-thirty? That will be fine. See you there.”

She put the phone down and turned back to me. She tutted and fastened my bra for me.

“You’re going to have to learn how to do this yourself, you know,” she said.

“Not a skill I ever expected to need. I thought knowing how to take a bra off was all I would want. Who was that on the phone?”

“Amy. She and some of the others who live up North came down a day early. We’re going to meet for lunch at a pub near Hadleigh House.”

“Do we have to?” I was still hoping to be seen as little as possible in my current guise.

“Yes, Mike. I think they’re entitled, don’t you? Their summer jobs depend on Michelle being totally convincing. Think of it as an audition…”

* * *

Holly had returned the hire car so we had to rely on public transport now. My foot-dragging made us late. When we arrived at the pub our fellow actors were already there. Douglas and Derek were at the bar organising a round of drinks. Holly led the way confidently over to a table for eight where Amy, Sam and Diane were sitting. I followed diffidently, expecting gasps and whoops when they saw me. I wasn’t disappointed.

“This is Michelle, everyone,” said Holly with a grin.

I was wearing a floral-patterned blue dress that could have been the sister of the ugly red one of the previous week, except that a relative lack of frills and flounces made it a little less of a fashion disaster. It was just as low-cut though, exposing my horribly realistic cleavage.

“My eyes are up here, ladies,” I said in my ‘middle-aged woman’ voice. I pulled my cardigan more tightly around my bosom.

The girls were all gawping at my chest, so no doubt I could expect more of the same when the men returned with the drinks.

“That’s amazing!” said Amy.

“I think we’re in business,” said Sam. “‘Mature Student, Mrs Michelle Bradshaw,’ is completely convincing!”

“I love your hair,” said Diane.

Holly had put my wig in an ‘updo’, which did look quite smart, I suppose, but was that really all Diane thought worthy of comment?

“I wasn’t sure about it,” Holly said, “because you could see she doesn’t have pierced ears, so I gave her those old clip-ons.”

“And they’re already beginning to hurt,” I said. “I’m certainly not going to wear earrings all day as Mrs Bennet.”

I hung my – that is, Susan’s – old handbag over the back of a vacant chair, and sat down, remembering to smooth my dress under me. All the girls (except Holly) were staring now, presumably at my feminine mannerisms, which were becoming automatic.

Derek appeared with a tray of drinks. He handed out glasses to Amy, Sam and Diane. When he saw me he stared, as though at a stranger. Then he noticed Holly was sitting next to me and light dawned.

“Wow, you’re fantastic!” he said. “I wondered who the strange lady with Holly was! At first I thought you must be her mother! No one would ever suspect you’re not a woman, Mike…!”

“Inside voice, Derek,” said Sam. “We don’t want the whole pub to know.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “What can I get you, ladies? We’ve opened a tab.”

“Gin and tonic for me, please, Derek,” said Holly, “and a glass of white wine for my Auntie Michelle.”

“I’d rather have a pint of lager,” I said, a little cross that she was ordering for me.

“Forget it,” she said. “Middle-aged ladies don’t drink pints.”

“That’s a bit sexist, isn’t it?” I said, but Derek was already on his way back to the bar.

“‘Auntie Michelle’?” Amy queried.

“Well, my parents might come to The Pride and Prejudice Experience, so I can’t pretend she’s my mother, but she has to be a close relation so that we can share a bedroom without anyone thinking it odd.”

That was good thinking, I suppose. I hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements for the next six weeks. So I would have to get used to my girlfriend calling me ‘Mama’ during the day and ‘Auntie’ at night.

“Won’t you have to room with Hilary?” said Diane. “Jane and Elizabeth Bennet share a bedroom, don’t they?”

“I certainly hope not!” I protested. “I’m certainly not sharing with some old actor Dennis has found to play my husband!”

A general discussion ensued of what the next six weeks would be like. We had filled in application forms asked for our accommodation preferences, but we hadn’t thought that allocations might be made in accordance with our Pride and Prejudice roles. We would have to wait and see.

Douglas came back to the table with pints for himself and Derek, and an armful of crisps and nuts. He also did a double-take on seeing me, but his reaction was less friendly.

“I’m not happy about this,” he said. “I accept that it’s a brilliant disguise, but I still doubt Mike is a good enough actor to convince hundreds of strangers that he’s a woman.”

“I’m afraid Douglas may be right,” I said, pleased at receiving support from an unexpected quarter, even if it was disparaging my acting skills. “If I’m rumbled, you could all lose your summer jobs.”

We were quickly shouted down. I wondered why all the girls I knew were so keen on me joining their numbers for a month and a half.

Holly concluded the case for the defence. “You can tell she’ll get away with it. Nobody’s given her a second look since we came in.”

“Well, not since you covered up your boobs with your cardy,” said Amy with a wink at me.

“Actually, the only thing I can see that’s odd here, is why an older lady like you is out drinking with young people like us,” said Sam. “It’s like you’re our chaperone, or something.”

“We should all keep an eye out,” said Holly. “If no one gives Auntie Michelle a sideways look while we’re here, we’ll assume she’ll pass, OK?”

“There’s an old guy over by the bar looking sideways at her now,” said Diane, “but I think it’s lust, not doubt over her gender.”

* * *

The following day we all assembled in Hadleigh House at two o’clock for our introductory briefing. Hilary and Rob Parker, who was playing Mr Bingley, had arrived now and were quickly intercepted by Holly to update them on the strange mature student, her Auntie Michelle. They looked predictably gobsmacked when they saw me, but quickly agreed to keep my secret, which wasn’t to be shared with any of the new cast members, and especially not with Mr Vaughan.

Sheila and Esther were there for the briefing too and came up to congratulate me on the effectiveness of my disguise. We ducked into a quiet corner so as not to be overheard.

“It’s your friend Ingrid’s doing,” I said to Sheila. “So this is all your fault, indirectly.” I indicated all the key elements of my Michelle persona – my bosom, buttocks and ridiculous blue dress.

“You don’t seem very pleased,” said Esther. She and Sheila looked worried.

“Well spotted,” I hissed. “This is hardly what I had planned for a summer job. I think I’d have preferred shelf-stacking or brick-laying.”

“You probably wouldn’t,” said Sheila. “At least this is indoors, dry, and with no heavy lifting. Look on the bright side.”

“I’m trying to, but I’m worried about long-term psychological damage. Not to mention what it will do to my relationship with Holly.”

“I thought she liked you as Mrs Bennet?” said Esther.

“But that can’t last, can it? It’s hardly normal to get off on seeing your man dressed as a woman.”

“Hah!” said Sheila. “If you’d seen some of the things I’ve seen…”

At that point a sprightly elderly gentleman came up to me. Sheila introduced us.

“Michelle, this is Tom Hawthorne. He’s the only professional actor here, I think.”

“Retired actor,” he stressed. “You must be playing my wife, madam. You look much too young for me!”

“Why thank you, kind sir!” I improvised. “We women have to do what we can to preserve our youth, while you gentlemen just grow more distinguished with age.”

I was pleased with that response. I’d heard my mother say something similar when some old fart was patronising her. And Tom was pretty ‘distinguished’. He could easily have played my father, rather than my husband. He smiled benignly.

The other new face was Linda Bickford who would be playing Mary. She was a music student, so presumably Vaughan intended her to play the piano for the Bennets and their visitors. I wondered if she was good enough – or bad enough – to make mistakes, as Mary did.

So there was about a dozen of us, plus Sheila and Esther, crammed into the large drawing room. At just on two o’clock three new people came in: a small middle-aged man with grey hair, beard and glasses; and two women, one young, tall, beautiful and fashionably dressed, the other also tall but a little older, dowdy and dumpy.

The man spoke. “Good afternoon, everyone. Please take a seat wherever you can. I’m Dennis Vaughan. I’m delighted you could all join us to bring The Pride and Prejudice Experience to life. I’m sure we’re all going to have a great summer. Before we begin our detailed briefing, I’d like to introduce our hostess, Lady Marsham, Countess of Hadleigh.”

“Thank you, Dennis,” the young woman said. “I’m your hostess because this building, which I understand is going to be the Bennet family’s house, Longbourn, is the old dower house of the Hadleigh Estate. It’s actually a century older than our main residence, the Hall. It’s where the Dowager Countess would have lived in the olden days. She would be the widow of the previous Earl and would usually move here from the larger family house on the death of her husband. But that hasn’t happened for nearly a century. Hadleigh Hall is easily big enough to accommodate two families without them getting in each other’s way. Anyway, my mother-in-law, the present Dowager Countess, has remarried and lives in America now.

“Sadly, previous Earls allowed this building to degrade rather badly. When my husband succeeded to the title he was very keen to make the most of all the Estate’s assets and decided to renovate this lovely old house. As you’ll see, we’ve focused on the front-facing rooms, where the Dowager and her guests would live. We’ve had to delay work on the rooms at the back for financial reasons, which we hope The Pride and Prejudice Experience will help to solve. Those rooms were mainly servants’ quarters. They’re safe enough – we’ve made sure the superstructure is sound – but they need a lot of work to be really comfortable. I’m afraid it may feel a little like camping to those of you who plan to sleep here.

“But what it means is that in your roles as the Bennet family and their friends you’ll be able to entertain paying visitors in well-restored, realistic Regency surroundings – including the family bedrooms.” She smiled. “I understand Dennis intends to allow visitors to observe you getting up and dressed in the mornings and changing for dinner in the evenings?”

She turned to Dennis. He was nodding enthusiastically.

“Rather you than me,” she said with a grin.

Everyone laughed. I had to admit I wouldn’t have minded watching this beautiful Countess getting washed and dressed in the morning. I immediately dismissed this naughty thought as completely inappropriate for Michelle Bradshaw, let alone Mrs Bennet.

“Just one last thing from me, then I’ll leave you with Dennis,” Lady Marsham said.

She stood aside and ushered her companion forward. That lady wore a tweedy grey skirt suit and frilly pink blouse under a round, bespectacled face with a bun of mousy hair. She was almost a caricature of a spinster postmistress or librarian.

“This is my husband’s secretary, Mary Manners,” said the Countess. “She will be your point of contact with the Hadleigh Estate if anything goes wrong and Dennis isn’t available. Feel free to call her anytime – her number’s in your briefing pack, I believe. I’ve never known a domestic problem Mary couldn’t solve.”

Miss Manners smiled bashfully but didn’t speak.

“I hope you all have a wonderful summer,” concluded the Countess. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in costume next week.”

She waved and left, closely followed by Mary Manners.

“Right, everyone,” Dennis began. “Let’s all introduce ourselves, shall we? I have briefing notes here for each of you. Please pass these packs around.”

He had opened his briefcase and begun tossing thick A4 brown envelopes onto the dining table – Mrs Bennet’s – my beautiful mahogany dining table. After a few moments’ general chaos we each had the right pack. I found myself holding the one marked Mrs Bennet.

“There are three documents in each envelope,” Dennis continued. “The first one, the Guide to Hadleigh House, is the same for everyone. There’s an outline of the local geography, a plan of the house and gardens, catering arrangements, transport links, emergency procedures, contact numbers, and so on. There is Wi-Fi, by the way – the code’s in the pack – but we have to be very firm about use of mobile phones during the day. They are for emergencies only. They must be off whenever there may be visitors on site – please tell your friends and family that you won’t be able to use your phone during the business day. If there is a really good reason why someone has to be able to reach you, please give them Mary Manners’ number. In an emergency, she will rush a message over to you.

“The Pride and Prejudice Experience will close every day at six o’clock, though it may be quite a while after that before all visitors have left the Estate, so please don’t be wandering around in modern dress before seven.

“As regards catering: the kitchen here is fully functional but off-limits to visitors. You can go in whenever you want, but you won’t get much there during the day. In any case, your breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea will be prepared by our staff, who will deliver it to the dining room at the appropriate times. You should assume that there will be up to six guests at the table for each meal. They will book their places when they enter the site. Depending on how many visitors we get, most guests will only be able to attend one meal.

“The catering staff will also prepare dinner in the evening for the cast. It will be served in the old servants’ hall behind the kitchen at seven-thirty. You are quite free to make your own arrangements for after the visitors have gone, but please let the caterers know before lunch if you won’t be in for dinner. Space has been made for a temporary common room for you with a pool table, daily newspapers and magazines, and an honour bar. There’s also a TV, but I’m sure you appreciate that it mustn’t be switched on before seven o’clock. The sound would be sure to carry through to the public areas.

“Regarding sleeping quarters: we’ve paired you up according to your preferences as far as possible. Most of you will be in the old servants’ bedrooms as Her Ladyship said. It’s not quite as bad as she implied, but you will be on camp beds. The Bennet family members will be dressing in the bedrooms at the front of the house in the morning, to show our visitors what people wore – and what they wore underneath what they wore – in 1813. All the toilets and bathrooms work, but there aren’t as many as we’d like and the ones at the back of the house are a bit bare; the ones at the front will be just for guests.

“They wouldn’t have had modern WCs in the house in 1813 though, would they?” I said.

Dennis smiled. “That’s quite right, Michelle. A form of flushing toilet was invented in the sixteenth century, but Thomas Crapper only introduced the WC as we know it in the 1880s. The Earl obviously had to put modern bathrooms in Hadleigh House, but as you’ve probably seen, he’s used replicas of the most antique bathroom porcelain he could find. I doubt most guests will know any better. If some smartypants asks a question about it, you’ll have to improvise.

“There is also a Portakabin at the back of the building, screened off from visitors. It has accommodation for singles and two fully equipped bathrooms. They were used by the contractors in the first building phase, so they’re quite decent. Some of you will be sleeping there.

“Now, the second document in your packs is specific to each individual. We’ve worked hard on these. It contains everything stated in the novel about your character, plus what he or she would know about your various neighbours and the local area, as described in the book. For example, Jane Austen afficionados among the visitors might try and catch you out by asking about the Lucases or the Philips family.

“The third document contains a great deal of historical information you might be expected to know, including the current political situation, the economy, foreign affairs, and so on. Bear in mind that this is 1813. The Napoleonic Wars are still going on. The local militias, so exciting to the younger Bennet girls, were going strong, as a coastal defence force, for guarding dockyards and prisoners of war, and various other duties, including riot control during the Luddite unrest of 1811-13. The militias were also a feeder system for the Army. No doubt Lydia and Kitty thought it was terribly romantic that the handsome young men they were dancing with tonight at the Meryton Ball might be sent to fight the French tomorrow.

“Otherwise, I doubt that Mrs Bennet, Lydia and Kitty would be interested in current affairs, but they would know about domestic matters – cookery, embroidery, dressmaking, types of cloth, and what luxuries were available in the local shops. Mr Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth would all be widely read and more knowledgeable about the outside world.

“Now, you lady members of the Bennet household: in the morning you will get dressed in your private rooms at the back of the house only as far as your underwear. Then you’ll go into your character’s main bedroom at the front and wait for the paying visitors to be shown in. Then you will finish dressing. Mrs Bennet will be dressed by her maid, Hill. Elizabeth and Jane will help each other, as will Lydia and Kitty. Later, at five o’clock, you will return to your bedrooms and visitors will be invited in to watch you changing for dinner. Mary and Mr Bennet will not dress in front of visitors.

“We did think of restricting access to the women’s bedrooms to female visitors only, but that didn’t seem necessary. A Regency woman’s shift covers the body pretty well. I’m sure all you ladies have worn considerably more revealing outfits at the beach.”

Well, I’m sure the other girls all had. I wasn’t looking forward to having my over-generous curves exposed for everyone – including men – to see. My bosom was bound to attract unwelcome attention. As a woman, albeit a purely honorary one, I couldn’t help but think that Dennis’s plan was a bit sexist.

“I’ll be having a separate session with Sheila and Esther later,” Dennis continued, “but for the benefit of the rest of you, here are the highlights regarding costume and makeup. Sheila’s company has provided us with a huge array of Regency clothes. You will all have three full outfits of day wear. All the ladies will also have aprons. The Bennet family were not rich enough to have several servants, so Mrs Bennet and all the girls will wear aprons some of the time during the day to indicate that they have been working in the garden, preparing flower arrangements, helping out in the kitchen - washing fruit, peeling potatoes, etc. Hill, the maid, will wear an apron all the time, of course.”

Amy grimaced at that, as did I, for a quite different reason. There was something ultra-feminine about wearing an apron, though – rationally – once I was in corset, petticoat, dress and lace cap, it could hardly make my appearance any more feminine.

“You will only have one evening dress,” Dennis continued, “as it will only be worn for a few minutes each day. Your day dresses will be laundered after each day’s wear. Sheila’s team will collect them from the bedrooms after all the visitors have gone. Every night, drop the rest of your clothes for that day in the laundry basket in your bedroom. Our staff will collect them in the morning and arrange for them to be cleaned. Underwear – that is, ladies’ shifts and men’s drawers – will be returned to your actual bedrooms. The rest of your costume will be placed in the wardrobes in the rooms where you will be dressing for your guests. You should always have one complete outfit to wear; one will be with the cleaning team; and one will be ready for the next day. I’m sorry, but the cleaning service does not extend to your own clothes. There is a launderette in the village.

“Our visitors will enter the grounds of the Estate via the main entrance. They will change into appropriate costumes in the Great Hall of the big house. Most guests probably won’t want Regency undergarments, just outer clothes, but I imagine some adventurous ladies will be keen to try on a corset. We’re trying to put together a team of local volunteers to support Sheila and Esther, but we’ve not made much progress yet. I’ll have to ask you cast members to help out; I’ll draw up a rota. But I suspect all you ladies will be working very hard in the early days. I promise to reflect that in your bonuses!

“When they are ready, guests will be transported over here by horse-drawn carriage, which ensures that you won’t be overwhelmed by too many people arriving at once. It’s a ten-minute walk, if they prefer. We also have contingency plans for inclement weather. The Countess has agreed that half of the guests can remain at the Hall when it’s too wet to go outdoors, and some of you – probably Elizabeth, Jane, Bingley and Darcy – will be ferried over to entertain them there. Then half-way through the day the groups will swap over. Of course, if it stops raining, we can make use of the carriage and offer walks in the park.

“I suggest I give you all a tour of the house and grounds now, then you can find your rooms, unpack, and rest up for a bit. Read your packs, then we can reconvene for afternoon tea here and I’ll try and answer any remaining questions you may have.

“I’d like to finish by stressing that it is important that the visitors’ experience is as authentic as possible. Please try to stay in character. Don’t break the fourth wall. Some smart-Alec may try to trap you with an anachronistic question like, ‘Doesn’t the noise from the M25 bother you?’ or ‘What do you think of those aeroplanes going overhead?’ Just look blank and say you don’t know what they’re talking about. Be your character at all times.”

But which character? I would have to be Michelle twenty-four-seven, pretending to be Mrs Bennet from eight till six. When this was all over would I still remember how to be Mike?

* * *

I got to share a bedroom with Holly, which was just as well as she would have killed someone (quite possibly me) if I had been put in with one of the other girls from our course, and I couldn’t have kept my secret for long from a roommate who wasn’t in on it. Sam shared with Amy; Hilary with Linda; and Derek with Rob. Tom Hawthorne insisted on his privacy, which was granted as he was the senior member of the cast, and no one volunteered to share with Douglas, so the two of them took singles in the Portakabin.

None of the servants’ quarters in Hadleigh House had en suite bathrooms of course, so I had to be careful to be well-covered when I went from our room to the toilet or the shower. If I met anyone in the corridor on the way, I needed either to be fully dressed, or I had to have two towels around me: one to cover my prosthetic breasts and false abdomen, and the other wrapped round my head in the feminine style, to conceal Mike’s straggly hair.

And I had six weeks of this nonsense…

Next: Mistress of Longbourn