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“Bà, have you heard from Lydia?” Kitty asked, leaning against her father’s armchair. Her phone was in her hand, text message chain with her younger sister pulled up.
Mr. Bennet looked up from the crossword he’d been working on with a frown. Taking off his reading glasses, he said, “No, no, I haven’t heard from Lydia today. Why do you ask?”
Kitty frowned, biting the inside of her cheek. She avoided her father’s eyes.
“Catherine,” he said, his tone sounding sterner. When even that didn’t work, he pulled the final card he had in his repertoire. “Yùrán, what is going on?” The newspaper was set aside on the small coffee table in front of him.
She flinched at the sound of her Chinese name. Outside of talking to family and family friends on her Māma’s side, the Bennet women used their English names. The use of their Chinese names meant that whoever was saying it was dead serious about something.
Kitty took a deep breath in and blurted, “Okay, you have to promise not to get mad.”
“I’m not doing that,” he said. Seeing how nervous Kitty was, though, he did take her free hand and squeezed it in reassurance. “Kitty, please. What’s going on with Lydia?”
“She swore me to secrecy, you see, and even though I thought it was a little weird, she seemed so happy, right? So, I didn’t really think anything of it! I mean, sure, she was kind of, like, withdrawing into herself, but she still joked around and did her schoolwork and everything. I didn’t think anything was really, truly wrong.” Kitty had begun crying some time in the middle of her ramblings, and her voice choked up. She swallowed a few times before she was able to get out, “Until today, that is.”
Mary, nose in a book as always, chose that moment to walk into the room. Her head snapped up when she heard the shaky breaths coming from Kitty. “Yùyù, what’s wrong?” Mary’s dark eyes darted to their father, looking for an explanation, when Kitty let out a stronger sob.
“She hasn’t been able to tell me,” Mr. Bennet said to Mary, his eyes on Kitty. “Yìrán, get your mother in here.” When Mary didn’t move, concern about her sister rooting her to the spot, he snapped at her, “Now!”
Mary dropped her book, the hardback hitting the rug with a dull thud. She turned and raced out of the living room, looking for Mrs. Bennet.
It wasn’t until Mary came back with her, when all the Bennets that were at the house surrounded Kitty and calmed her down, that Kitty was able to explain everything. “That Wickham guy, the one who was Lizzie’s Room Advisor last year. Somehow, he found Lydia’s Instagram after term started a few months ago. They’ve been messaging back and forth since then, and she was supposed to meet-up with him last night outside a pub he liked.”
“She said that she was going over to Hari and Pen’s flat last night,” Mrs. Bennet protested, though the scheme was already unravelling itself in front of the family’s eyes.
“Oh, she did that as a ruse, Mum,” Kitty sobbed, her voice rough. “She said she was going to meet Wick in Sussex.”
Mr. Bennet swore before pulling out his cell phone. Thumbing through his contacts, he said, “I’m going to let Jane and Lizzie know about this. Mary, go and put on the kettle. Kitty, see if you can see where she is in one of your social media apps. Angel, sit with her and help.”
The other three did as he said, but all he could focus on was the line ringing. “Pick up the phone, pick up the phone!” He murmured to himself.
The call connects, and he hears a playful argument in the background of Jane’s call before she greets him. “Bà! Lizzie and I were just talking about you! Lizzie,” her voice faded a bit, “Bà’s on the phone!”
“Jane,” he started, but was cut off.
“Here, I’ll put you on speaker. Lizzie’s hands are a bit covered in egg and flour right now.” Jane laughed at Lizzie’s complaining, and he felt a pang in his heart for the news he was about to tell them.
“Girls, pay attention,” he said sternly, his voice sounding like an annoyed teacher dealing with rowdy primary school students.
“Bàba, what’s going on?” Lizzie asked. The background conversation, that he could just make out, died at her concerned tone.
“Lydia is missing,” he said, ripping off the metaphorical bandage. “Somewhere down in Sussex, we don’t know where.”
“You, she, what?” Jane stumbled over her words, unable to string a sentence together from shock.
“She’s with that Wickham man,” he continued, voice even as he reins in his anger.
“Fuck.”
Shit, shit, shit, my phone is almost dead, SHIT!
Lydia’s thoughts revolved around that knowledge as she ran through back alleys and weaved in and out of pedestrians. She didn’t know where she was going, if she was being honest with herself, but she did know she had to get out of there. Doesn’t matter where she goes next as long as she’s gone. And he’s in his car. Laughably easy for him to catch up to her if she’s not smart about this.
Oh, gods, what would Lizzie do?
Lydia paused by a postal service van that was parked at the curb. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to sort out stores she could hide in or places she could charge her phone. She didn’t have her wallet with her, either, damn it all to hell and back. Once again, she cursed Wickham’s name, furious that he’d convinced her to go all the way down to Sussex.
There were many shops on this road that she could use as cover, which was good. But honestly, she just wanted to be home, surrounded by her sisters and her parents with a cuppa. She looked behind her again, quickly scanning the road. She couldn’t see him nor his car, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t near.
She should go to the shop that would be most unlike her interests. If she went somewhere, like a musical instruments shop or a Waterstones or something, at least to get off the street. At least she had brought her trainers, she thought to herself, looking down at her shoes. She had almost brought a pair of heels that Jane had got for her on her birthday over the summer. But Kitty had convinced her that trainers would be easier to sneak out of the house with.
Lydia looked around again, and decided to go to a coffee shop halfway down the road. It was attached to the shops on either side of it, but had a brick facing to it, standing out against the mostly glass faces on the other ones. It also looked as old as her father and nothing like the places she would normally go, if not for her three eldest sisters dragging her along. Perfect.
“Hello, welcome to Bean on the Road,” greeted the young woman behind the counter. “Today’s special is—are you alright?” She asked, cutting herself off. There weren’t many other people there aside Lydia herself, the employee behind the counter, the employee who was cleaning up a back table, and an elderly couple sitting by the small bookshelf.
Lydia staggered the few steps to the counter, grabbing onto the waxed wood edge for support. “Please, please,” she begged, “you have to help me. He can’t find me. Please don’t let him find me!”
The woman behind the counter—and now that Lydia was closer, she could see that Jane was probably only a few years her junior—frowned. Her honey-blonde hair was pulled back into a peppy ponytail, curls and all, and her name tag read “Emma”. She looked behind her at the other worker. “Oi, Linno, we got a Field Mouse here.”
Linno looked up from the stack of plates she was putting on her tray. Her hair was as black and straight as her sisters’. Her dark eyes looked Lydia up and down in a quick glance, before nodding. “Follow me,” she said, her voice only just carrying across the space between them.
Lydia passed the elderly couple, both of whom looked up at her with concerned sympathy evident on their faces. She managed a grim smile that fell as soon as they couldn’t see her face. Linno was waiting for her patiently, using her hip to prop up the tray of used mugs and plates, but there was a palpable tension in the air. When Lydia reached her, Linno used her free hand to open part of the counter, letting her in first before following. Lydia hadn’t even seen the hinges.
“This way,” Linno said, jerking her head to the right. There was a curtained off area which the older girl walked right through. Lydia followed, the heavy fabric of the curtain resisting her slightly. The curtain only covered the middle three-fifths of the doorway, with a space on the top and bottom. The room behind the curtain was a small industrial kitchen, and Linno paused to place her tray down next to what Lydia assumed was the dishwasher.
“Almost there,” Linno said, a small smile on her face. Lydia nodded, and they continued forward once more. Around the corner of the sinks was a small employee bathroom, door open but the light off, and a small area for employees to take their breaks. A well-worn sofa that was once a solid dark brown but now was lighter was pushed against the wall. In front of it was a round table surrounded by three folding chairs. Off to the left, pushed against the wall, was a small series of lockers with names handwritten on labels. Across from it against the other wall was a set of shelves that went up to about Lydia’s hip. There were only four spaces within the unit, two of them being used to hold books and pen markers and coloured pencils. The other two were empty.
“You can stay here,” Linno pointed to the sofa. “One of us will come back and check on you regularly until you tell us you want to leave, or the shop closes. If that happens, we can talk about what you want to do next. Have you got anyone you can call to get you?”
Lydia took a shaky breath in, her adrenaline rush turning into an adrenaline crash. “My, uh,” she cleared her throat, “my phone’s dead.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and showed Linno.
“Oh, that’s no worry,” she said, helping Lydia to sit on the sofa. “We’ve got charging cables you’re welcome to use.” She reached over the arm of the sofa and pulled up a couple of charging cables.
Lydia plugged her phone in and waited to see a little lightning bolt appear in the middle of the screen. When it appeared, she let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Linno gave Lydia a smile that reminded her of Lizzie’s, one that told you there were a million different plans running through her head at the moment. “Do you want anything to drink? Eat?” She leaned back, letting the lights overhead shine on Lydia’s face. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” She admitted, looking down at her hands. She knew that Wickham had given her something to eat when she got to his last night, but she didn’t remember when she got up and started running. She just… She had to get out of there.
“Well, that’s alright, then,” Linno reassured the girl. “I’ll get something done up for you up front. D’you have any food allergies or something?”
“No, no, I’m,” Lydia bit down on the urge to decline the offer. “I don’t have any allergies that I know of.”
“Alright,” Linno straightened up.
“I, um, I have a question, though, if that’s okay?”
“Go ahead.”
“Up at the front, the other girl—”
“Emma.”
“—Emma, she called me a field mouse?”
“Oh,” Linno said, “right.” She took a breath before pulling a chair away from the table to face her. “It’s a code-word that the staff is trained for. It’s basically a plan for someone, such as yourself, who needs a safe place because someone else is after them.”
“Oh,” Lydia nodded, “thank you for telling me.”
“No problem, uh, what can I call you?”
“… You can call me Laoshǔ.”
Linno gave Lydia an amused smile. “I like it. I’ll be back soon, Laoshǔ.”
“Do we know where she is yet?” Lizzie asked over the phone.
Darce looked over at her, before turning his attention back to the road. In the backseat of the car sat Jane and Charlie. Everyone had a grim look on their faces, and the tension felt like it was constantly mounting with every passing minute.
“No,” Kitty’s voice was despondent, “we just know she’s in Sussex. Her phone must be dead or something.”
Lizzie and Jane both let out a series of swears in Mandarin. The call, on both ends, was on speakerphone. Mrs. Bennet didn’t even react. “She’ll pop up on the map soon,” Mary insisted. “She just needs time.”
“Well, we can give her an hour,” Darce muttered under his breath. He glanced at his satnav, seeing how far left the four of them had to travel.
“I’m going to kill him,” Lizzie said. Guilt and fear twined through her body. If she’d just not walked into the wrong dorm, none of this would be happening.
“Get in line,” Charlie said at the same time as the Bennets back in Kettering. Charlie was the second youngest of his siblings, but Caroline had never acted like it. She was too independent for that sort of thing. Instead, she and Lou both treated him as if he were the youngest. Meeting Darce and Jane allowed him the chance to dote on their younger sisters as he’d never had the chance to with his own. As vapid as Lydia could be sometimes, she and Charlie got along rather well.
Before anyone could say anything else, Jane gasped. “She’s calling!”
“Answer it!” Everyone shouted.
“Mèimei?” Jane put the call on speakerphone. The car was silent as everyone awaited the response.
“Dà-jiě! Zhēn duìbuqǐ! Duìbuqǐ, Dà-jiě’ér!” Lydia sobbed over the phone.
“Where are you, Ài–mèi? We’re coming to bring you home.”
Lizzie and Jane shared a shattered look as Lydia continued to cry, though it sounded as if she was trying to muffle it.
“Hello?” Another voice said. It was a woman’s voice, and she sounded as concerned as everyone else felt.
“Who is this?” Lizzie demanded.
“I’m Lind,” she replied, “I work at Bean on the Road. Are you Laoshǔ’s family?”
There was a faint snort that came from the other end of Lizzie’s call that must’ve been Kitty.
“Yes, we’re her older sisters,” Jane answered, looking a little more calm than before. “Is she okay?”
“Physically? Yes,” Lind said.
“We are about forty minutes away,” Darce murmured to Lizzie, pressing down harder on the pedal.
Charlie looked torn between exasperation and gratefulness at his long-time friend’s actions.
“We are about forty minutes away,” Lizzie relayed the information to both phones.
“Who should I be looking for?” Lind asked.
“What? The four people running in looking concerned won’t give it away?” Charlie muttered bitterly under his breath, looking out the window.
Jane laid a hand on his arm, squeezing just enough to comfort him. “There will be four of us,” she answered Lind. “Two men and two women. We’ll look like older versions of her. One of the men will have ginger hair, and the other will have black hair.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Lind promised. “Here, your sister seems to have calmed down a bit.”
“Hello?” Lydia asked, her voice sounding exhausted.
“Mèimei, we’re on the way,” Lizzie said, voice strong. “We’re,” she turned her head to look at the satnav before Darce could say anything. “We’re a little over a half hour away. Will you be alright until then?”
“Yes, Èr-jiě. They’re making sure I’m okay.”
“Oh, gods, Àirán,” Mr. Bennet said over the phone. His voice sounded odd to his daughters. Almost like he was… Crying?
“I’ll be home soon, Bàba,” Lydia promised.
“We love you,” Mrs. Bennet said, “very much.” Kitty and Mary voiced their agreement.
“Do you want us to stay on the phone with you, Ài–mèi?” Jane asked, pushing her hair away from her face.
“I,” she started. “I don’t know?” Her voice flew up at the end.
“That’s alright,” Charlie said, speaking for the first time. “You don’t have to know.”
“Here,” Lizzie said, beginning her argument. “I’ll hang up with everyone at home. They’ll be able to track us anyway, so it’s alright. We’ll stay on the phone with you, Lydia, but you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. How does that sound?” She was asking her youngest sister more than she was everyone back home in Kettering, but still. She didn’t want to just hang up on them with no warning.
“Alright,” Mary agreed. “We’ll see you soon, Lydia!”
“See you soon, Laoshǔ!” Kitty called.
Their parents said their goodbyes, and Lizzie was able to finally put her arm down.
“Charlie, you’ll be sitting with Darce on the way back,” Lizzie told him.
“Of course,” he immediately agreed. “It’s a good thing you’ve got that blanket in your boot, eh?”
“Yes, Charles, you were right,” Darce said, rolling his eyes.
“We’ll have to mark this in history books,” Charlie teased. “The great William Darcy admitting that poor lowly me, Charles Bingley, was correct.”
“You’re the worst and I wish we had never met,” Darce said, tone flat.
“I love you, too,” Charlie laughed, a fond smile on his face.
Lydia’s small laugh carried over the phone, much to their relief.
The tension in the car released with the knowledge that very soon, Lydia would be with them.
Once Linno disappeared around the corner, Lydia felt herself slump into the soft cushions, like a string puppet whose lines have been cut. She’d never felt this tired in her life before. Ever. Not even when her cheer coach had her and her squad run around the track until someone boked. It felt as if her bones were like stone weights. Her eyes closed without her even really thinking about it.
… She could feel her skin tingling now, uncomfortable little pricks up and down her arms and legs. They wrapped around the limbs, like a sharp ghost touch. There was a faint scent of alcohol that got stronger with every breath. It mixed with the smell of his cologne, something she used to find charming but now made her feel sick. A grimace crossed over Lydia’s face, and she couldn’t move. The feeling of sharp ghost touches turned into solid, uncomfortably warm hands. She whimpered quietly, joints locked in their positions. Footsteps across an old wooden floor. The sound of a belt being undone. A little mouse caught in a falcon’s nest. “Oh, little mouse,” he singsonged, “won’t you open your—”
“—eyes? Laoshǔ, can you hear me? You’re safe. You’re in a coffee shop in the back room. You aren’t with him any more, you aren't there. Laoshǔ? Can you open your eyes for me?”
Lydia shook her head, squeezing her eyes tighter. Another bit-off whimper sounds from her mouth. She can’t open her eyes, she can’t do it. He’ll be there if she does. Gods, she can’t breathe.
“I’m sorry in advance, love.” The voice sounded deeply apologetic, and she wondered for a brief heartbeat why that would be.
The question was answered when she felt something cold and wet being pressed to the side of her neck. Her eyes shot open as she flinched back into the cushions violently. In front of her, Linno was sitting there, holding a handful of ice. The smells of alcohol and cologne were washed out by the smells of coffee and cinnamon. Lydia blinked a few times, trying to refocus on what was happening at that moment. Next to Linno was a small plate with a warm cinnamon roll on it, answering the question of where that scent was coming from, and a cup of ice water. The feeling of a tight grip on her arms and legs was replaced with the feeling of worn sofa underneath her and cold water trickling down the side of her neck.
“Lin,” Lydia started to say, but her throat constricted. With her free hand, Linno handed her the water. Lydia took it carefully, gratefully, but her hands were shaking still. After a few sips, Lydia tried again. “Linno?”
“Hey, Laoshǔ,” Linno replied. “I’ll be right back.”
Lydia frowned, clutching her water to her chest, and watched Linno with a laser precision. But the older woman didn’t go far, or even out of Lydia’s eyesight. She simply walked over to the sink at the corner and tossed the ice in. Several clangs were heard, followed by the sound of an automatic paper towel dispenser. Linno came back over, sitting down and handing the paper towel to Lydia.
Lydia took it, trading the ice water she was holding for the paper towel. After drying her hands, she scrubbed at her neck. It wasn’t until her hand brushed against her chin did she realise her face was also wet. She didn’t remember crying.
“I brought you one of our county-famous cinnamon rolls,” Linno’s voice was soft, like how one would speak to a frightened cat. “Warmed up and all.”
“Thank you,” Lydia murmured, not wanting or feeling up to talking, but remembering the manners her parents had raised her with.
“Hey now, none of that,” Linno brushed off Lydia’s thanks. “You don’t have to speak until you’re ready, okay?” A nod. “Right, now eat up, and after you’re done, we’ll see about your phone, eh?”
She handed the plate to Lydia, followed by a fork and knife. Lydia looked down at it, lifting her utensils to cut into it, before she looked back up and Linno, a question stark on her face.
“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Linno promised. “There’s not many people out front right now; Emma will be alright.”
The rich cinnamon roll burst across Lydia’s taste buds, icing just the right amount of melted and sweet. She understood why Linno had sounded so proud of the cinnamon roll. County famous indeed. Lydia hummed quietly, letting Linno know how much she appreciated the food.
Linno seemed to understand, and ruffled Lydia’s hair affectionately. It reminded her of Charlie. She felt her eyes grow wet again and swallowed against the lump in her throat. She just wanted to be home. The older woman seemed content to sit in silence with her, and little by little Lydia relaxed. When she’d finished both the water and the cinnamon roll, Linno took the dirty dishes and set them on the metal counter.
“You feeling any better?”
Lydia took a breath in, holding it as she checked in with herself. Releasing the breath, she said, “I think so, yes. Thank you, again, for the cinnamon roll.”
“O’course,” Linno telegraphed her movements obviously and reached for Lydia’s phone. Part of Lydia wanted to be offended at the actions, but the rest of her appreciated the gesture. Linno picked up her phone and set it into Lydia’s lap. “You should give your family a ring, hey?”
“Yes,” Lydia mumbled her agreement, looking down at the black screen. She realised, though, that she might not have been loud enough in her reply, “Yeah, yes, you’re right.” She pressed her thumbnail into the power button on the side of her phone. After a few moments, her phone came to life with a long buzz and a ding.
“Fuck,” Lydia said instinctively as she saw the notifications of messages from her family start to come in, her phone incessantly buzzing. Other notifications from her social media started popping up, as well, but she ignored all of the notifications and went instead to call Jane.
The phone rang twice before Jane answered. “Mèimei?” Jane’s voice sounded so familiar and so worried that Lydia couldn’t stop the tears instantly springing to her eyes.
“Dà-jiě! Zhēn duìbuqǐ! Duìbuqǐ, Dà-jiě’ér!” Lydia cried, voice wet, slipping into Mandarin without really thinking about it at all. She just felt so much guilt at worrying Jane, worrying her family, trusting him to be a good man. All she could do was apologise to her eldest sister.
“Where are you, Ài–mèi? We’re coming to bring you home.”
Lydia tried to answer, but all that would come out were small sobs. She tried to muffle them as best she could, not wanting to worry her sisters any more than she had.
Linno touched Lydia’s arm gently, waiting until the girl had wiped her eyes, and motioned to the phone. Lydia handed it over, hand shaking a little.
“Hello?” Linno asked once she put the phone to her ear. With her other hand, she pushed her hair away from her face, black strands catching slightly on her earrings.
Lydia watched her quietly, her breathing irregular but calming down.
A small smile quirked the corner of her mouth to whatever Jane said on the other end. “I’m Lind,” she said, presumably in response to a question. “I work at Bean on the Road. Are you Laoshǔ’s family?”
Linno nodded, eyes drifting around the room as she listened to what Jane was saying. Her eyes suddenly focused on Lydia, and Lydia got the same up and down scan that had occurred when she got to the coffee shop.
“Physically? Yes,” Linno said, carefully.
She turned the phone away from her face and covered the speaker. “They said they’re forty away.”
Lydia nodded.
“Who should I be looking for?” Linno asked, brow furrowing as she concentrated on the response to her question.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Linno promised. She looked at Lydia again, seemingly taking note of how the girl was breathing regularly, or mostly regularly, again. “Here, your sister seems to have calmed down a bit.” She handed the phone back to Lydia.
“Hello?” Lydia asked, exhaustion clear in her voice.
“Mèimei, we’re on the way,” Lizzie said, voice strong. “We’re,” she paused for a beat, “We’re a little over a half hour away. Will you be alright until then?”
“Yes, Èr-jiě. They’re making sure I’m okay.” Lydia gave Linno a small smile, more not a frown than anything else. Linno seemed to get it, though.
“Oh, gods, Àirán,” Mr. Bennet said, his voice sounding tinny. He must be on a call with Lizzie, and put both their calls on speaker. His voice sounded odd even aside that factor. Almost as if he were… Crying?
“I’ll be home soon, Bàba,” Lydia promised, nails digging into her phone case. She hated her parents being upset in any way.
“We love you,” Mrs. Bennet said, “very much.” Lydia nodded, forgetting for a moment that her Mā couldn’t see her. Kitty and Mary also chimed in, telling Lydia that they loved her, too.
“Do you want us to stay on the phone with you, Ài–mèi?” Jane asked, her voice sounding closer to the phone than the rest of her family’s—bar Lizzie’s—had.
“I,” she started, then stopped. Did she want Jane and Lizzie to stay on the call with her? “I don’t know?” Her voice flew up at the end.
“That’s alright,” Charlie said, “You don’t have to know.” She was surprised to hear his voice, but then realised she probably shouldn’t be. Charlie and Jane were bound to be engaged before the year ended; it only made sense he would be there with her sisters. And if he was there, Will must be, too.
“Here,” Lizzie said, her voice sounding bossy like usual. “I’ll hang up with everyone at home. They’ll be able to track us anyway, so it’s alright. We’ll stay on the phone with you, Lydia, but you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. How does that sound?”
Before Lydia could even really process what was said, Mary was agreeing. “Alright. We’ll see you soon, Lydia!”
“See you soon, Laoshǔ!” Kitty called, and Lydia smiled at the slight teasing tone when Kitty said her nickname.
Their parents said their goodbyes, and then it was just Lydia on speakerphone with the four of them that were in the car.
“Charlie, you’ll be sitting with Darce on the way back,” Lizzie said, clearly in planning mode.
“Of course,” he immediately agreed. “It’s a good thing you’ve got that blanket in your boot, eh?”
“Yes, Charles, you were right,” Will said, dryly. Lydia would bet one of Bean on the Road’s county famous cinnamon rolls that he’d rolled his eyes at Charlie through the rearview mirror.
“We’ll have to mark this in history books,” Charlie teased his best friend. “The great William Darcy admitting that poor lowly me, Charles Bingley, was correct.”
“You’re the worst and I wish we had never met,” Will said without much emotion to it.
“I love you, too,” Charlie laughed, and Lydia could picture the wide smile on the ginger’s face.
Lydia laughed quietly, the comfort of knowing her sisters, her not-yet brother, and Will were on their way to her squeezing her heart.
“Lydia!” Jane and Lizzie exclaimed, watching their sister emerge from the back of the coffee shop. Jane sagged against the counter in relief, Darce coming up behind her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Charlie and Lizzie rushed up to the girl, wrapping her in hugs and checking her over, assuring themselves of her being there in front of them.
“Gods, we were so worried,” Lizzie muttered into Lydia’s hair, bringing her youngest sister in for another hug.
Charlie was holding one of Lydia’s hands, so she was only able to hug Lizzie back with one arm. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said into her èr-jiě’s shoulder.
Jane finally walked up to them, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and Lydia and Lizzie separated. The oldest Bennet sister tucked Lydia’s hair behind her ears, drawing her hands down Lydia’s face to her shoulders, assuring herself that Lydia wasn’t hurt. “Xiǎo Mèi,” she whispered, tears finally making their way down her face. “Wǒ hěn gāoxìng nǐ huílai le.”
“Xièxie nǐ lái jiē wǒ.”
“Zǒngshì zhèyàng.”
“We’ll always come to get you, Lydia,” Lizzie said, emphasizing Jane’s promise made in Mandarin.
Lydia gave her sisters a wet smile, and Charlie squeezed her hand. “Hi Will,” she said softly, greeting Lizzie’s boyfriend. She’s not sure when he walked over from the front of the store, but she was glad to see him.
“Lydia,” he said, falling into the stiff, formal voice he used when he was uncomfortable. “Good to see you hale,” he held out his hand the way he had when he first met her.
Lydia shook his hand, shaking her head fondly, laughter coming from the Bennet sisters and Charlie at his actions.
“Hi, er,“ a voice from behind the group said awkwardly. “I’m Lind. This is Emma.”
“You should go sit down,” the blonde woman said, presumably what was meant to be under her breath. She lightly nudged the shorter worker with her elbow.
“Right,” Lind said, “um, over there if you’d like?” She pointed to a corner of the store they’d ignored in their rush to see Lydia.
There was a sofa, worn and a cosy reddish-brown, pushed up to the large front window. Across it were two plush armchairs, one a mustard yellow and the other a deep velvety green. Between the sofa and armchairs was a low, black coffee table with a haphazard stack of books and magazines on one end, and a small basket with handcrafted coasters at the other. The Bennets sat on the sofa, Lydia tucked safely between her two oldest sisters. Charlie and Darce each took an armchair, Charlie in the yellow one and Darce in the green. Lind pulled a chair over from a nearby table, sitting down between Lizzie and Darce.
“Thank you for keeping her safe,” Jane said at once, hardly waiting for Lind to sit down fully.
“Of course,” Lind said, “I couldn’t have done anything else.”
“People have before,” Darce said darkly. But with his voice barely having been above a whisper, it was obvious that he hadn’t meant to say anything.
“I’m Lizzie, and this is Jane, Charles, and Will,” Lizzie introduced herself and the others, pointing to each person.
Lind smiled, casting a fond look at Lydia. “Your little sister here told me all about the four of you.”
“Only dreadful things, I’m sure,” Lizzie teased, ruffling Lydia’s hair.
Lydia leaned into Lizzie even as she protested. “Māma and Bàba raised me better than that! I only told Linno mostly dreadful things.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lizzie held a hand to her heart. “If it was only mostly dreadful things, then that's alright.”
“Girls, behave,” Jane scolded, rolling her eyes.
Light conversation continued, Emma walking over after cleaning the counters down to join them.
“How much do I owe you for the cinnamon roll?” Lydia asked during a lull in the conversation.
Emma threw the girl a sharp look. “Absolutely nothing, stop that.”
At the other’s surprised looks, Lind explained, “She’s asked that already, and both me and Emma have told her that it was on the house.”
“It’s calm there, Little Mouse,” Emma said, her expression much more pleasant than a few moments ago.
“Calm?” Charlie asked.
“It’s fine,” Emma translated. “Local slang, don’t worry about it.”
“Right,” he said, still looking confused.
“Sorry, don’t mean to distract,” Jane started, looking just a bit uncomfortable at interrupting the conversation, “but you’ve got cinnamon rolls?”
The smiles that Lind and Emma gave in response read, to Jane, as extremely promising.
“Well, seems she’s well and truly proper knackered,” Lizzie said quietly, looking at her youngest sister with a fond worry.
Lydia was sprawled across the back seat, her head in Lizzie’s lap and her legs in Jane’s. Jane had her phone out in one hand, texting their family that they were on their way back with Lydia safe and sound; the other hand was holding on to one of Lydia’s ankles, keeping her legs from falling and waking her up.
Charlie turned his head to look back at them from the passenger seat. “Gigi’s going to be such a mother hen when she sees Lyds next,” he thought aloud.
Darce let out an amused huff at the thought of how much his little sister could worry. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, meeting Lizzie’s. She gave him an understanding smile. He focused back on the road. Three people in his life that he cared about now have all been hurt by Wickham. That wouldn’t stand. Darce refused to let it. As soon as he was back home, he was going to call his solicitor and see what the next steps should be for Gigi, Lydia, and Lizzie. And if his solicitor couldn’t help… There is hell to pay, and Darce has always been good with money.