To Walk Invisible: The Bronte Sisters Page #8

No, we have to go to London

and give ocular proof

that we are three separate people,

the novels are not all the work

of one person,

and that this is absolute trash.

Well, I'm not going.

Why? Because you can write a letter

and explain all that,

and just say that Newby's made

a mistake. This is not a mistake!

This is a deliberate

and deceitful attempt

to cash in on the success

of Jane Eyre. Sorry.

It isn't! It is!

Newby has made the mistake,

along with a lot of other people,

of assuming we're all one person,

that is all it is.

Why are you so obtuse?

Why are you so melodramatic?

Emily!

I don't want The Tenant

Of Wildfell Hall promoted and sold

on a deceitful...

misunderstanding, whichever,

that it's by anyone other than me.

We have to go to London.

Now.

Today.

And explain to Mr Smith and Mr

Smith Williams what's happened.

It's intolerable to imagine they

could think I could be so slippery.

But, wait, look, you can't.

You can't go to London

and explain who you are

because they will see you.

That's the whole point.

Yes, and you promised -

you promised me -

that we would never reveal ourselves

to anyone. Ever.

Well...

I'm afraid because of

your...Mr Newby...

..we now find ourselves in a...

situation.

Emily...I think we should go.

No! You're not going, either.

No, I am! No, you're not.

Newby's compromised my integrity

just as much as Charlotte's.

I shan't publish with him again.

If you won't come with us,

that's...that's your choice.

We don't need to fall out

about this, Emily.

It's about your novel -

and your name.

It's got NOTHING to do with me!

Don't be like that, Em...

What's the matter?

Emily.

Yes, but you do know her bark's

worse than her bite, don't you?

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

Charlotte...

Jane Eyre.

Look.

Can I help you, ladies?

Yes.

Yes, I'd...

We'd like to speak to

Mr George Smith, please.

Mr Smith?

Mr Smith's very busy.

Yes...

But the thing is, you see...

It's important.

Can I tell him what it's about?

Just...

Just that it's a matter

of importance.

I'll, er... I'll see what...

I'll see if he's got a minute.

Who should I say is asking

to see him? It's...

That's delicate.

He is a very busy man.

We've been travelling

for 17 hours,

and we'll take up less than

one minute of his time.

Sir, two ladies asking to see you.

What ladies?

Didn't give a name, sir.

What's it about?

The only thing I could prise out,

sir, is that it's important.

To me or to them? They've asked for

no more than a minute of your time.

They say they've travelled

for 17 hours.

Ladies. How can I help you?

Am I addressing Mr George Smith?

Yes.

It's a confidential matter.

We're...

We're here to address

a misunderstanding,

which, once accomplished,

will be to everyone's advantage,

yours as much as ours.

And so we apologise

for what must be an interruption

to your morning's work.

But perhaps if I gave you this,

it would clarify who we are.

Where did you get this letter?

In the post. From you.

You sent it to me.

I am...Currer Bell.

C Bronte, that's me.

And this is Acton Bell,

author of Agnes Grey.

The point is, author of

The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall, not me.

And Ellis couldn't come.

Ellis didn't want to come.

Ellis is... Anyway...the point is...

we are three sisters.

I have not sold the first few pages

of my next novel

to an America publisher, as claimed

by Mr Thomas Cautley Newby.

That is not my novel, it's Acton's.

I...Mr Smith, have nothing, exactly

nothing, to do with Mr Newby.

And nor will my sister, now she has

seen him in his true colours.

We are people of integrity.

And probity.

And that is why we are here.

To set matters straight.

Sorry, you're...

You are Currer Bell?

What makes you doubt it, Mr Smith?

My accent? My gender? My size?

Oh, good heavens!

Oh, good Lord!

Forgive me, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, too,

we've caught you off-guard.

But you see, we felt it best

to come and see you in person,

given the tone of your letter.

I wanted no room left for any

further misunderstanding or doubt.

That's deeply, deeply appreciated,

Miss...

BOTH:
Bronte.

And a great relief, of course.

Have you really been travelling

for 17 hours?

Through the night. Such was

the tone of your letter that..

You must be exhausted.

Oddly, Mr Smith,

I feel extraordinarily awake.

Where are you staying?

We've booked into the Chapter

Coffee House. In Paternoster Row.

Our father stayed there briefly

before he went up to Cambridge.

And my sister and I,

my other sister, Ellis, did once,

before we travelled to Brussels.

You've taken my breath away.

Miss Bronte.

Oh, you have to meet people.

Have you any idea how many people

want to... Thackeray!

Thackeray, Thackeray...

Thackeray will have to meet you.

Er...Kent, Kent.

Kent! Fetch Smith Williams!

You have to meet Smith Williams.

He...he is such an admirer

of...of...of...

He was...

..of your genius.

He was the one that read...that read

The Professor, and saw instantly,

before Jane Eyre -

which is glorious, by the way -

um, he saw...

he saw, he saw, Miss Bronte.

The whole of literary London -

the whole of London -

will fall over itself

to spend a minute

in the company of Currer Bell.

Um, somebody really needs

to do something about this Mr Newby,

though, Mr Smith.

Absolutely, indeed.

He will be dealt with.

Please, please, come through

to my office.

Ah, Smith Williams!

This...

This is...

Currer Bell.

Oh, how perfect.

How delightful.

And this is Acton...Bell.

Ellis couldn't come.

Do you like opera?

BRANWELL COUGHS:

I'll see to him,

I'll sit with him.

Are you sure?

You go sleep in their bed.

Branwell.

I'm going to be sick.

HE VOMITS:

You're back!

That was quick!

All the way to London.

How were things here? Oh, well,

we've had sad work with Branwell.

But other than that...

Good. Good.

You're the last person in the world

I want to fall out with.

I know.

We only told Mr Smith

and Mr Smith Williams.

Well, and Newby, later.

No-one else. We made it clear they

hadn't to tell anyone else either.

They took us

to the Royal Opera House,

Mr Smith and Mr Smith Williams did,

with Mr Smith's mother

and his sisters,

and us with nothing to wear

but what we'd gone in.

They'd no idea who we were!

Heaven alone knows what

they must have thought about us.

He's...

What?

Branwell.

He's been vomiting blood.

"Dear Ellen,

"I received your letter informing us

"of the time of your arrival

in Keighley with great delight.

"Emily and Anne anticipate

your long-delayed visit

"as eagerly as I do, myself.

"We will be outside the Devonshire

Arms promptly at two o'clock.

"Wishing you a safe

and comfortable journey."

Anyone for Keighley?

Ellen!

Charlotte!

Emily!

Anne! Miss Nussey.

Which one's your box?

Is it this one?

Yes, that one there.

How was your journey?

Long, tiresome.

We haven't seen you for so long.

I know, I've missed you.

Shall we go? Yes.

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