Sinking in the arms of Darcy

Friday, November 28 08

Mr Bennet was sitting on the babies’ table, towel wrapped round his waist, his torso pink from bath heat, attempting to coax the DVD player to hand over a film firmly lodged in its jaw. The words “blocked” flashed up and try as he might, Mr Bennet couldn’t relinquish the DVD or get its mouth to open. Miss Rosie Bennet was like this. If she picked up something – particularly a fistful of Playdoh, Mrs Bennet couldn’t dislodge it. Although she wasn’t clutching on to a bath towel at the time.
The Bennet house was full of furniture badly needing limbs and joints replaced. Chests of drawers littered every room in the current squeeze while the Darcys in the dirt worked on building bite-size Pemberley around them. The lounge chest – dedicated to uniform – was constantly dropping its drawers and causing a scene. As Mrs Bennet pulled out Miss Megan’s drawer, those containing Miss Naomi and Miss Emily Bennets’ clothes, would crash down on top of her fingers. She couldn’t even open her own clothes drawers upstairs.
The fridge had a blocked tear duct and wasn’t draining properly. Instead a puddle of icy water gathered on the bottom shelf, threatening to flood on a daily basis. And the understairs cupboard and kitchen units were so crammed full of “stuff,” Mrs Bennet feared their wrath any time she approached them. She decided to look at something positive. As the seven Bennets had now outgrown Mr Bennet’s bachelor sofa, she was pouring over a certain catalogue to consider corner settee options which would accommodate the Bennet bottoms. She pointed out a suitable design to Mr Bennet, who by now had won his quest over the obstinate DVD player, his towel still in tact.
He nodded in agreement at the child-friendly deep chocolate brown hue, then started to chuckle.
Mrs Bennet did wonder if the bath water had been too hot for him. What was funny about a sofa?
“I don’t believe it," he started."You’ve got a certain gentleman on the brain. This sofa is called Darcy.”
"Let's see!" she cried. Mr Bennet was right. If they did plump for this design, she really could legitimately sink in the arms of Darcy!