A chance encounter by Rhona Gorringe
The bookshop door swung open to its widest extent and with a swishing of long skirts an elaborately coiffured woman swept in.
She was a vision from the nineteenth century. Bridget stifled a gasp at what must surely be a seventeen inch sized waist. Clutching her copies of Hypnotise Yourself to stop Smoking and Count Your Calories, Bridget stood transfixed. She must be theatrical, from Covent Garden she thought or could this still be the effects of the Chardonnay she and Daniel had shared last night? She knew she had drunk over her fourteen units and smoked far too many cigarettes but it had been a good night. She reddened as she remembered some of the things Daniel had said and began to regret her impulsive decision to let him stay the night. But he couldn’t possibly drive home and he was her boss.
The woman’s green eyes rested on Bridget. “Aha! you look like someone who could advise me on novels au courant. I’m Becky Sharp, by the way, just back from Belgium.” and she offered an elegantlyly gloved hand, “What’s that you’ve chosen?” Tongue-tied, Bridget passed over her slimming book. “No, this is no good,” the apparition trilled, “Don’t diet, just eat less and use a smaller plate.” Bridget was amazed. This was just what Mark Darcy suggested she try.
Ignoring a display of Mother and baby books, Miss Sharp advanced on the chick lit shelves. “Do you know this one?” she asked Bridget.
Bridget blushed at the cover and deepened even more at the title. “Oh, yes, I read it when I…, I mean my girl friend said er, it’s very helpful, got some good ideas.” Bridget stammered.
Miss Sharp tutted over historical battles, cookery and some ‘How to’ titles She gave Bridget a wide smile and in a cooing voice asked, “Could you, would you mind? My long skirts are too …” She let her large eyes linger on Bridget’s pink face, “You’re so much taller than I am,” In a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “that shelf with Card Games and How to Spot a Cheat. Do you play?”
“Yes, occasionally with my friend Daniel but we don’t play for money, only forfeits.”
Bridget pulled herself together. From a fuzzy memory of her schooldays, she suddenly remembered Thackery’s Vanity Fair; and the femme fatale, heartless mother, cunning and resourceful Becky Sharp, mistress of Lord Steyne. This woman knew how to play the game and Bridget wanted to play too. She didn’t want to be treated as the invisible woman, an ‘Also Ran’. In a flash she saw herself with a seventeen inch waist, a soft voice and Daniel or Mark on her arm as the church organ thundered and bells rang.
She turned to Miss Sharp and, summoning up her most refined tone and accent, said “I’m just going to have a coffee here, do join me. I would simply love to hear about your fascinating journey and adventures.”
Simon’s comments:
This is a pleasingly original interpretation of the brief. The idea of bringing together two fictional characters from different centuries is a good one. Using existing characters works as a kind of shorthand. We know what the two women are like, so we don’t need elaborate descriptions of them. Also, the more I think about it, the more parallels there are between Becky Sharp and Bridget Jones. Both are women trying to make their own way in a challenging and male-oriented world. But their approaches are very different. The self-questioning, insecure Bridget does not have the ruthless, go-getting skills of Becky. She needs those kind of street smarts. It is significant that Becky is interested in a book about how to spot people who cheat at cards. ‘This woman knew how to play the game and Bridget wanted to play too.’ So, it is entirely logical that, at the end, Bridget wants to pick Becky’s brains over coffee. I would be intrigued to hear that conversation, in which the twentieth century character learns from her nineteenth century counterpart how to be more of a ‘woman of the world’. A neatly executed piece of writing.